The Big Cadet
by Theo Kamis
Summary: Four dead, including two LAPD detectives, and two critically wounded - a shooting in Venice challenges Provenza and Sanchez emotionally, and Raydor and Major Crimes professionally. Set early in the run of Major Crimes, when Fritz Howard was still FBI liaison to the LAPD. (All Major Crimes characters are creations of James Duff.) (Minor proofing edits of Chs 1-15 on 7/13/18.)
1. Chapter 1

December 11th - 16:45

Captain Sharon Raydor drove toward the scene as the dusk deepened, wondering what she would see…

"Captain, officer involved shooting, four fatalities, two wounded, Vernon Avenue and 5th Avenue," Detective Sanchez had told her ten minutes ago. "Six units from Pacific Division have cordoned off the area, and are canvassing the area for witnesses."

"Did you inform FID?" Raydor replied. "I'll be there in 15 minutes."

"Yes, ma'am, the FID commander will be here in 15 minutes," Sanchez replied. "I have not done more than visually inspect the scene, and clear it. Paramedics' ETA three minutes."

"Good," Raydor replied. "The rest of our team will be there shortly." She sighed, then added, "Lieutenant Provenza will arrive first – please remind him to not touch anything until FID and I get there."

Sanchez grimaced. "Yes, ma'am." He hadn't liked calling FID, either, but that was LAPD procedure, and Raydor expected him to follow procedure. "I don't like the looks of this, Captain…" His voice almost broke when he said this.

Raydor disconnected, then texted an order to the rest of Major Crimes, "Respond to scene code three," then turned on her lights and siren, her lips pressed tight, but not excessively speeding – she wanted traffic to clear out of her way, not so that she could floor the accelerator, but so she could quickly and safely get to the scene.

Why was Julio struggling to maintain control? Raydor wondered.

By the time Raydor reached the scene, everyone from Major Crimes was present, waiting outside the crime scene tape. Also waiting was the FID commander.

"Captain Raydor? I'm Commander Reed, FID."

"Commander Jim Reed?" Raydor replied as she opened her door and stood to meet him, proffering him her hand. His grip was firm, but not crushing; the look on his face, framed by grey hair in a perfect short haircut, betrayed his concern.

"My last year before retirement, and I get command of FID just in time for this," Reed stated calmly. "I want to talk with you for a moment before we proceed."

"Yes?"

"As you know, whenever there is an officer involved shooting, FID is supposed to have control of the crime scene," Reed began. "However, I would like to have FID collaborate with Major Crimes, where we cooperate to determine what happened here, then we can let the facts determine how we proceed."

"And do so in a way that keeps Chief Taylor from fretting," Raydor nodded. "Shall we begin?"

They ducked under the tape, as did the remainder of Major Crimes. "Your other investigators aren't here yet," Raydor commented.

"All three of FID's sections have active investigations at the moment, so FID has no one to spare here right now," Reed replied. "Besides, I am an experienced investigator, and with Major Crimes here, FID can concentrate on the other situations."

Raydor frowned. "It's been a difficult start for you in FID…"

"Not really, Captain," Reed replied, "you set the bar high at FID while you were there, and that helps. Thank you."

The portable lighting had been set up, and Lieutenant Tao, along with Detective Sykes, was canvassing the pavement for evidence. Inside the crime scene, there was an LAPD marked patrol car that had been riddled with holes blocking 5th Avenue across from the driveway to the Venice Skills Center. There was an officer in uniform in the driver's seat, slumped over the steering wheel. Twenty feet ahead, a red Honda Civic had also been riddled with holes. In the driveway of the Skills Center lay three bodies, all in body armor.

"Detective Sanchez?" Raydor asked." She scanned the scene once more. "There's something quite wrong about this…"

"The two females you saw being taken to the hospital were in the Civic," Sanchez reported. "The paramedics said that they were unconscious, in shock, and were both in critical condition. They did not make any statement."

Terrence continued. "I can't establish the timing of when each person was shot, but it's clear that all this happened no more than 30 minutes ago. All fatalities were killed by gunshots – the officer in the squad by multiple rounds, the two females were also hit by multiple rounds, but the three in the driveway were all killed by one round to the head, apparently execution style." Terrence sighed. "The officer on the ground took several rounds in his body armor, but I don't see any evidence of penetration of the armor." He sighed. "I will let you deal with the investigation, and Dr. Morales is waiting for transport of the bodies now – he presumes this is of the highest priority."

"Thank you, Terrence," Raydor replied. "Get some coffee."

"I don't feel like anything at the moment," Terrence stated.

"Trust me," Reed replied, "even if you don't think you need it, you do, and you'll feel better."

"Ma'am? Look at who the officers are…" Sanchez said. Looking toward the driveway, Raydor and Reed saw the officer in body armor face up, a bullet wound to his forehead. Provenza was kneeling beside the dead officer, trying not to cry. Raydor glanced at Sanchez, to see tears welling in his eyes.

"Why?" Raydor asked.

"It's Detective Ted Romero…"

Raydor looked at Reed. "What am I missing here?" Reed shook his head, and asked, "Who is the other officer?"

"Detective Robert Stromwahl, Auto Theft," Lieutenant Flynn replied. "Sixteen years in the department, good record."

"And Romero?" Raydor was not certain why Sanchez and Provenza were reacting the way that they were.

"Captain," Provenza took a deep breath, "Detective Romero, also from Auto Theft, has twenty-six years' experience with the department, and is a third generation LAPD officer from his family."

"He is the grandson of Detective Sergeant Ben Romero," Sanchez added. At that, Reed's jaw dropped, and Raydor frowned.

"I should have remembered the name," Reed sighed. "He died while in the department."

Raydor shook her head. "I should have, too…do either Romero or Stromwahl have any next of kin?"

Flynn shook his head. "Stromwahl was a confirmed bachelor, and he told me a few years ago that he didn't have any living relatives."

"Romero has a daughter," Sanchez added.

"She is a cadet at the Academy," Provenza added. "In fact, final examinations are tomorrow."

"I'll call the PSTB, to see if her examinations can be deferred," Reed replied.

"Provenza and Sanchez," Raydor added, "please do the notification, and get whatever information you can from her." She scanned the scene once more. "There's something quite wrong about this…"


	2. Chapter 2

Raydor looked at Tao, "Do you need help with canvassing the scene?"

Tao frowned. "There's well over 100 shell casings on this scene –right now, Amy, Buzz, and I are filming everything in HD, because there's no effective way to sketch and label this scene as we would in a normal shooting. And that's going to take some time, maybe ten minutes more."

"Captain," Flynn looked toward the Skills Center. "none of the residences on this block have video cameras. The Skills Center has several, and LA Unified School District needs a warrant before they can release the video to us."

"I'll get the warrant," Reed replied, pulling out his cell phone. "Do either of the officers have body cameras?"

"Both do, plus the squad has a dashcam," Tao replied. "I'll get the footage to…where should I send the video to, Captain?"

"Lieutenant, handle it as you normally would if FID wasn't here – just make me a copy of all footage," Reed answered.

Raydor nodded. "Did either officer use his sidearm?"

Flynn shook his head. "No sign of that, but we need to process the scene, and their weapons, to make sure." At that, both Reed and Raydor nodded.

"Lieutenant Tao," Raydor looked toward the bodies in the driveway. "What sidearms did the officers have?"

"Both had the new Glocks, and if I remember, Auto Theft uses .40 caliber ammunition," Tao replied.

"And I haven't seen any .40 caliber casings, just 7.62 casings, like used in AK-47's," Sykes added.

"So," Reed frowned, "if Romero had seen that the attackers were wearing body armor, and had automatic rifles, that would explain why he didn't use his service weapon when he left the squad."

"But, then, why didn't he use it when he was at close quarters?" Raydor replied.

"Commander, Captain, look at the bodies," Sykes said. "Notice the helmets and face shields? They're armored, too."

"And it looks like they have full military grade body armor, not just vests," Tao added. "If Romero realized that, he would have known his Glock would be useless, unless he got off a very lucky, or very skilled, shot."

"And as good as Glocks are, they're not that accurate, or that powerful, to take that chance against automatic rifles," Reed replied.

"How long will it take to complete the processing of the scene enough so that we can get the bodies to Dr. Morales to start the post-mortems?" Raydor asked.

"Videotaping is complete, we're marking all the casings for evidence now, and we will be going over the vehicles as soon as the casings are completely processed here – I'd say that we can send the bodies to the morgue now," Tao replied.

"The tents have been erected over the vehicles, Captain," Flynn said, "and examination of the vehicles can begin when Tao is ready."

The "thump-thump-thump" of a helicopter could be heard in the distance. "Perfect timing," Reed said, "it looks like a TV station got their chopper up."

"Sergeant?" Raydor called to one of the uniformed officers from Pacific Division.

"Sergeant Li Chen, Captain," the senior uniformed officer replied. "How can I help you?"

"How is the neighborhood canvassing going?" Raydor asked. "It looks like the perimeter could use a couple more teams, with the media likely coming shortly."

"Lieutenant Stoner is enroute with four more teams, ETA five minutes, two for canvassing, and two for perimeter control," Chen replied. "With those two teams, it looks like the canvassing will be complete in about sixty minutes."

"Thank you, Sergeant," Reed smiled. He turned to Raydor. "With the autopsies starting soon, we should be able to have everything wrapped up here before Dr. Morales has completed…" Raydor's phone rang.

"Sharon?" She grimaced – it was Chief of Operations Taylor. "What's going on there? I'm getting calls that there was an officer involved shooting, and you haven't called me!"

"Chief," Raydor counted ten mentally, "I am with Commander Reed of FID, and we are jointly investigating this situation." She took a deep breath. "Right now, the perimeter is secured, thanks to Detective Sanchez promptly calling Pacific Division for assistance, and their sending more than adequate resources to assist Major Crimes and FID."

"Sharon, why didn't you call me immediately?" Taylor sounded rather harassed. Raydor couldn't blame him, apparently the rest of the TV stations in Los Angeles were all at the PAB.

"Chief Taylor," Raydor replied icily, "the situation was such, per regulations, that with FID investigating, as this was an officer-involved incident involving the use of deadly force, FID has command of the scene, as you are well aware, and thus, the person that has the responsibility to report to you is the incident commander. In this case, the incident commander is the senior officer from FID on scene. Would you like to speak with Commander Reed?" At that, Reed had to stifle a laugh.

Taylor could be heard taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Sharon, the reporters are like yipping dogs, and I would like something to tell them."

Raydor continued, "There are two LAPD officers KIA, two other persons also KIA, and two other persons WIA, in critical condition from the last report that I have from thirty minutes ago." Another deep breath. "With the help of Pacific Division, the neighborhood is being canvassed, and all available security camera and body camera footage is being collected. Physical evidence is being collected; I will say that there are more than one hundred shell casings from automatic rifle or rifles that could be fired by weapons like the AK-47." One more deep breath. "The two officers KIA, one has no next of kin, the other has a daughter, and Lieutenant Provenza and Detective Sanchez are en route to notify her, and get any information that she has."

"Who are the officers?" Taylor asked.

"Both from Auto Theft – Detectives Robert Stromwahl and Ted Romero."

"When do you think the notification will be completed, Sharon?" Taylor somberly asked.

"Probably sixty minutes, Chief." Raydor took another deep breath. "I do not know yet if there is an active suspect that is still alive, the processing of canvassing and video will take some time." Another breath. "But, it appears that there may be at least one living suspect. Until we process the information we have, we cannot say this, because I am not certain, and even if I was, we have no description."

"Would Special Agent Howard be able to assist you, Sharon?" Taylor sounded like he would rather have faced a shooting board than say that. "I know you're working on this with maximum effort, Sharon, but we need this resolved as soon as possible."

"Yes, Special Agent Howard's resources and assistance will be quite useful, Chief," Raydor replied. "One moment, Chief." Raydor turned to Reed. "I am estimating that we'll be back to PAB in ninety minutes?"

"We can work out of Major Crimes," Reed nodded. "I am thinking that this isn't going to be in the jurisdiction of FID."

"I would like your assistance until this has been determined for certain," Raydor replied.

"Of course," Reed nodded.

"Chief Taylor," Raydor went back to her phone. "Commander Reed and I should be back to Major Crimes in ninety minutes."

"Thank you, Sharon," Taylor replied. "Keep me updated." He disconnected.

"Is there any chance that Romero and Stromwahl were targeted?" Reed asked Raydor.

"I don't know, Commander," Raydor replied, "but, given the circumstances, I can't ignore the possibility." She dialed a number. "Lieutenant Provenza?"

"Captain, we're almost to the address – it's near Highland Park, 4656 Collis Avenue."

"Provenza, I want you and Sanchez to notify her as gently as you can, and get her to pack an overnight bag, and bring her to Major Crimes as soon as possible."

"Do you think that she's in danger?" Provenza sounded worried.

"I don't know," Raydor replied, "but I can't discount that possibility right now, and I'd rather not take that chance."

"OK, Captain," Provenza replied, "I want to know what you've found out there…"

"Commander Reed," Raydor turned back to face him, "there are a lot of questions I have…"

"Me, too," Reed replied, "but keeping her safe isn't one of them." They both turned back to the scene, shaking their heads.


	3. Chapter 3

December 11th - 20:35

Sanchez pulled into the driveway of 4656 Collis Avenue – one half of a tidy, split-level duplex, built in the 1980's. A light shone from the living room window.

"I hate this job," Provenza muttered. "I've had to do notifications too many times in the past, and I hate them more than I do my first ex-wife."

"Don't think that you're doing this yourself," Sanchez replied, "I've had to do too many notifications too…we're both doing this, together. And we have to be strong for her."

Provenza rang the doorbell. After a moment, a young woman opened the door to the width that a chain bold would allow. "Who is it?" she asked.

"Lieutenant Provenza and Detective Sanchez, Los Angeles Police Department," Provenza replied. "Here's my ID card," proffering it to her.

She closed the door, and they could hear the bolt being removed. The door opened once more, and she said, "C-come in, please…"

Provenza and Sanchez entered. One look at the woman, and Provenza and Sanchez both knew that she had guessed the worst. "Please sit down, ma'am," Sanchez told her. "Can I get you some water?"

The woman was a bit on the chubby side, definitely not a Hollywood model-type, but she was quite pretty. Her shoulder length wavy black hair framed her slightly oval face. If she hadn't been to the point of tears, Sanchez might have wanted to ask her out to an early dinner. Provenza gently guided her to a kitchen chair at a small wooden kitchen table.

"Lieutenant," the woman began, "I remember you from your lecture at the Academy two weeks ago. I know you wouldn't be here unless it was a notification about my father." She sipped from the glass of orange juice that Sanchez had placed before her. "What happened, Lieutenant?"

Provenza looked at Sanchez; Sanchez nodded. "Ignacia Romero…" Sanchez took a deep breath. "Your father was involved in an incident for which an FID use of force investigation, concurrent with an investigation by Major Crimes, is taking place." He looked into Ignacia's eyes, and gently placed his hands on hers. "I am sorry that we must tell you that your father was killed during this incident."

Romero looked back at Sanchez, and replied, "Please forgive me…" as she began to weep quietly, head in hands on the table, shaking like a small earthquake. After a moment, the shaking slowed, then stopped, and she lifted her head. "He couldn't have, he was on assignment at a training seminar…"

"Where was this?" Provenza asked. "And what for, and when?"

"In Long Beach," Romero replied, "at a Homeland Security exercise."

"Don't tell me that Chief Pope is doing some bureaucratic paper shuffling to get more officers trained in reserve Homeland Security crap!" Provenza remembered all too well how that worked out, when former Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson kept the head count of then-Priority Homicide by moving their unit to the jurisdiction of the Counter Terrorism and Special Operations Bureau, in order to receive additional Federal grants. The training required was tedious, to say the least.

"Funny that you should say that," Romero tried to laugh, "because that's almost exactly what my father said. But he took that very seriously, as he always took any duty assignment."

"Ignacia," Provenza said, "I must tell you that you need to pack a small overnight bag, and come with us immediately."

"I can't," Romero replied, "I have final examinations tomorrow, and I need to do some final prep."

"Ignacia," Sanchez grasped her hands, and forced her to look into his eyes, "Captain Raydor of Major Crimes ordered us to bring you with us, because there is a small chance that your father was targeted, and if he was, you may be in danger as well."

"All right," Romero replied, "will five minutes be enough?"

"Of course," Provenza said. "Julio, please call the captain to see if she can arrange for a stake-out of Ms. Romero's home here, while she's gone."

Reed and Raydor drove back to the PAB.

"What are you thinking, Captain?" Reed asked, eyes facing ahead as he drove.

"Several things, Commander," Raydor replied. "First, why were two detectives from Auto Theft in a marked vehicle in Venice? They're plainclothes detectives."

"Romero's daughter might know something," Reed frowned. "She's being brought in now?"

"Yes, Sanchez said they had left five minutes ago," Raydor replied. "That reminds me, I need to arrange for a stake out of her home while she's gone." She dialed a number, and hit the speakerphone button. "Chief Taylor? Can you please arrange a stakeout of the Romero home – 4656 Collis Avenue?"

Taylor was curt, but not unpleasantly so. "I'll call Metro Division for that. Do you have his daughter safe?"

"Provenza and Sanchez have her with them, their ETA is 12 minutes," Raydor replied. "Commander Reed, what's our ETA?"

"10 minutes," Reed replied.

"Special Agent Howard will be here in 30 minutes," Taylor said. "I want a briefing of what you know at that time, Captain."

"Make it an hour, Chief," Raydor countered. "I need to speak with Cadet Romero first."

"We don't have time for that," Taylor snapped.

"We don't have time not to talk with her first," Reed snapped back. "If she has any information, it may reduce the breadth of what we need to do to resolve the case."

Taylor could be heard taking a very deep breath – he would argue with anyone if he thought he was right, but he also knew Reed wouldn't take no for an answer either. Of course, Taylor also knew that FID was still in charge of the investigation, until it was clear that no legal or regulatory violations had occurred.

"One hour, then, Commander, Captain…" Taylor hung up.

"Do you think he misses regular telephones?" Raydor mused.

"Oh, yes, he does…" Reed chuckled. "What else are you wondering?"

"The sequence of events," Raydor replied, "because until we know more about what happened, and when, we really cannot tell what we have here."

"And then," Reed replied, "who were the two women in the Civic? How do they fit in?"

"Yes," Raydor sighed. "All those rounds fired at them…there has to be a reason."

"This shooting was intentional," Reed agreed, "but what was the intention?"

"And more to the point," Raydor added, "is there anyone left with that intention? Someone that we need to find?"


	4. Chapter 4

December 11th – 2205

Raydor and Reed walked into the murder room, to find everyone except Sykes at their desks. "Provenza, where's Cadet Romero?"

"In your office, Captain," Provenza replied. "Sykes is working on the shell casing map and report, and is waiting for Ballistics to call back."

"Andy?" Raydor looked toward his desk.

"LA Unified Schools responded to the warrant for their security cameras at the scene," Flynn was rather sarcastic, "only one of the four were working, and they claim that they can't get the footage to us for 48 hours, due to vacations in their IT department. I called the judge, and he said that he can't hold them in contempt til morning."

"Will they allow us to help them find the footage, if we sent Tao there?" Raydor was calmly boiling.

"I asked, and they said that US Department of Education regulations forbid anyone outside LAUSD to access their servers," Flynn didn't believe what he just said.

"Mike? Our body cameras?"

"Processing them now, both body cameras and both squad cameras were working perfectly, and I have everything from ten minutes before to five minutes after with all four cameras," Tao replied. "When Chief Taylor gets here, I will have two minutes before to two minutes after completely ready to show – it looks like that's all we need for now."

"Sanchez? ID's of the other four victims?"

"The two women are at Reagan/UCLA," Sanchez began. "Maria Camacho, 32, and her daughter Yolanda, 8, both live in that neighborhood. Maria works in a bakery in the neighborhood. Father, Jose, died in a car accident two years ago." Sanchez tapped a couple keys. "No record for either in any California law enforcement database. Both natural born US citizens, born in Los Angeles County." Sanchez sighed. "Mother is in grave condition, daughter is in critical condition, both are unconscious, and neither have said anything yet."

"And the other two men?" Reed wondered.

"No identification on either," Sanchez said, "and no matches for their fingerprints in any database that we have in California. I've sent both sets of prints to the FBI." Sanchez took a deep breath. "And both were wearing top of the line US military, full body armor, only issued to US Army personnel. We're trying to trace it now. And Buzz is running facial recognition on both faces, to see if there's a match somewhere."

Raydor sighed. "Chief Taylor and Special Agent Howard will be here in 35 minutes – please continue what you're doing…oh, Provenza, any word from Dr. Morales when he will be done?"

"He hopes he'll be done in two hours," Provenza replied. "I asked Lieutenant Stoner from Pacific Division to take a detail to Reagan/UCLA to protect the two victims, and to update us at once if anything major occurs, and he was already there with the detail." He glanced upward. "I don't pray for much, as you know, but I'm praying for no news for a while right now."

"I understand," Reed mused. "In situations like this, no news means that the patient is more likely to recover, the more time passes." He crossed himself, as did Raydor and Sanchez.

"Commander, if you will join me?" Raydor strode toward her office.

"Cadet Romero," Raydor gazed at the young woman seated across from her desk. Shaking her head, she moved to a chair next to Romero and sat beside her. "For the moment, I want you to ignore rank, because I need you to respond to my questions without regard to official protocol." She held Romero's hands in hers. "May I address you as Ignacia?"

Romero was maintaining control, barely, as the interview had started, but she relaxed as Raydor held her hands. "Of course, Captain."

"No, Ignacia, for right now, I am Sharon, and this is Jim, okay?" Reed smiled.

"I am going to ask you some simple questions, so I can get to know you," Raydor spoke reassuringly, "and so you can think more clearly when I ask you the questions that I need answered." Romero tried smiling. "You are how old, Ignacia?"

"24, and my birthday is in four days," Romero replied.

"What did you do before applying to become an officer with the LAPD?"

"I attended UCLA, and graduated with degrees in chemistry and physics."

"Why did you choose these fields of study?"

"Because I wanted to become a police officer, but in either FSD or TID."

"Why?"

"Because, if I am to become the best police officer that I can be, I must take advantage of my skills in the best manner possible," Romero smiled, "and I am very good in science."

"Did you receive any honors at UCLA?"

"I graduated summa cum laude." At that, Reed barely turned a jaw drop to a huge grin. Raydor's smile didn't show any of her teeth, but it lit up her office.

"Now, do you know what your father was scheduled to do today?"

"My father and Detective Stromwahl are partners, and they were assigned to a Homeland Security exercise by Chief Pope, at Long Beach." Romero tried not laughing. "Lieutenant Provenza, I believe, called that 'reserve Homeland Security crap!' "

"What time did the exercise begin?"

"0700."

"What agencies were there?"

"ICE, FBI, DEA, LAPD, LA Sheriff's Department, San Diego PD, the Highway Patrol, and all smaller local departments, I believe my father told me."

"Did he tell you anything about what the exercise consisted of?"

"No – he outwardly dismissed it as crap," Romero sighed, "but he spent three hours last night making sure all his equipment was ship shape, as he put it."

"Did he use any weapon other than his LAPD sidearm?"

"He had the standard equipment that all uniformed LAPD officers have on patrol, and for this exercise, he and Stromwahl were in uniform, not plainclothes."

"So he had a Taser and a baton?"

"Yes, and he and Stromwahl also each had three triple-chasers."

"Did they wear their personal armored vests?"

"Yes, but no helmets, and they wore steel toe short boots today."

"Helmets aren't standard equipment with vests," Reed noted.

"Father always said that, unless there was a marksman opposing them at long range, a helmet was a tactical disadvantage in most situations." Reed nodded.

"So, when was the exercise scheduled to end?"

"1730, and father called me at 1745, letting me know he was enroute home."

"Do you have any idea why he went through Venice?"

"No, I don't," Romero's eyes began to tear up; Raydor squeezed her hands harder.

"One more question for now," Raydor reassured Romero. "Do you know why Detective Stromwahl wasn't wearing his vest, and your father was?"

"My father wasn't scared," Romero replied, "but when he was on an assignment requiring the vest, he always kept it on until he got home – it was something he always was in the habit of doing."

Raydor looked at her watch, then Romero's face. "Ignacia," Raydor spoke as soothingly as she could, "in a little while, would you be able to come with me to the coroner's office, to identify your father's body?"

Raydor didn't wait for Romero to sob. Raydor stood up, guided Romero to her feet, and held her head on her shoulder, patting her back. After a moment, Romero lifted her head. "I have to, it is my father…and Stromwahl is my father's partner, and he was like an uncle to me…" Romero took a huge, deep breath. "If I am going to be a good police officer, I will have to do things like this…"

Reed gently replied, "You will never get used to doing things like that, but you will be able to do them better."

"And the one thing that you will have to learn is how to channel those emotions so that they remind you of why you are an officer of the Los Angeles Police Department," Raydor added. "To protect, and to serve."

A knock on the door. "Captain," Provenza poked his head into her office, "Chief Taylor and Special Agent Howard are here." He glanced at Romero. "Are you all right, Ignacia?"

Romero nodded, "Yes, I am all right, as much as circumstances permit."

Raydor looked at Romero, perhaps too sternly. "I can't share information about the investigation with you at this moment, but as soon as possible, I will give you summary reports as I am able." She looked at Romero's bag. "Please wait here…and don't study too hard for your examinations."

Romero sat at Raydor's desk, opening a textbook and a notebook, to begin reviewing for her exams.

"You know she won't listen to your last instruction, don't you?" Reed smiled at Raydor.

"I know, but I want her to not worry so much at the moment," Raydor replied. "She has much more to deal with soon enough."


	5. Chapter 5

December 11th – 2255

The victims' pictures were on the whiteboard, with dry-erase marker notes for each. And Raydor was not happy.

"Can you please explain, Special Agent Howard, why the FBI is not providing us with the information that it has on our two John Does?" No, "not happy" wasn't it…coldly furious was more like it.

"There's a national security hold on that information," Howard replied, "and not by the FBI." And before anyone could react vocally, he continued, "This was on the orders of the White House itself."

Taylor was about to explode, but Raydor held her palm up. "We have two dead LAPD detectives, and two gravely wounded civilians, and the White House wants us to ignore all that? A rational explanation that tells us something other than "wesayso" would help, Special Agent Howard."

Howard was not pleased. "Unfortunately, it's "theysayso", Captain Raydor."

"Then you had better call the Attorney General," DDA Hobbs walked in, "because this is a murder with a lot of special circumstances, and the State of California will not appreciate it if we cannot explain why two police officers were murdered, as a result of the White House not sharing information it has control of with us."

"I can't even try doing that without proof that the two John Does are involved," Howard said.

"Well," Sykes stood up, and faced Howard, "Ballistics reviewed every piece of firearm evidence." She began ticking points with her fingers. "One, there were four weapons at the scene, two AK-47's, and two Glocks, one for each officer." She took a deep breath. "There was no evidence that either Glock was fired, and both had fully loaded magazines, and there were no .40 caliber shell casings on the scene." Another breath. "There were a total of 242 rounds fired from the two AK-47's recovered from the scene, all of which struck the vehicles." Another breath. "And powder residue tests confirm that the two John Does fired the AK-47's found on the scene."

"And here's the bodycam footage," Tao continued, "from two minutes before to two minutes after the end of the shooting. Lights!" The footage played.

"Lights!" Tao continued. "As you saw, Stromwahl and Romero heard the first shots from Vernon and Fourth, and they radioed in for shots fired, then turned onto Third from Vernon, where they were fired upon, and Stromwahl was hit and killed."

"How did Romero stop the vehicle and do what he did?" Hobbs was shocked.

"Stromwahl braked hard and stopped right as he was hit," Flynn replied, "then Romero threw the vehicle into park, exited the vehicle, then threw two triple-chasers at the Does, then attacked them with his baton, disabling their legs, and they fell."

"Then he is shot, in the head, by someone from a distance," Provenza added. "After a moment, we don't see it in the bodycam, but we hear two shots, and then nothing, until Julio drives up thirty seconds later." He turned to Sykes. "Did you find three more shell casings that didn't match the others?"

"We found two casings by the bodies, not three," Sykes replied. "Both ammunition consistent with another AK-47, but other weapons also fire 7.62 rounds."

"Which would make sense," Sanchez said, "if the first shot the unknown person fired was at more of a distance, we wouldn't have looked by the entrance to the building."

"Why didn't they wait for backup?" Taylor asked. "That is the procedure."

"Looking at the map of the scene and surrounding area," Howard replied, "they wouldn't have seen the shooters until they got to the driveway, and then it would have been too late." He pursed his lips. "Also, the sounds of the gunfire indicated that it was further down 5th than it actually was."

Raydor's phone and Provenza's phone sounded simultaneously. Both answered, stepped aside from everyone else, and had brief conversations, then disconnected.

"Captain, Chief," Provenza said, "Lieutenant Stoner just found out that Maria Camacho, the mother, died five minutes ago. The daughter is in surgery now, and the doctors say that if she gets through this surgery, she should survive, and recover somewhat – they're not sure how much yet."

"Provenza," Raydor replied, "keep working things until I get back." She turned to Hobbs. "We need to get to the morgue, as Dr. Morales is done, and has a situation, and we will need you." To Sanchez: "Please gently wake up Cadet Romero, and bring her with us."

"I'm coming with you," Howard insisted.

"Special Agent Howard," Raydor replied icily, "you are the FBI liaison to the LAPD, but the word "liaison" implies collaboration. This is something that you are not doing at the moment. She removed her glasses, and wiped them clean. Replacing her glasses on her face, she continued, "Until I see some collaboration from you, which you implied would be forthcoming once we had shown you evidence, or you show me sufficient evidence that this case is solely under Federal jurisdiction, I do not want you anywhere near this case."

"Captain Raydor!" Taylor interjected.

"No, Chief Taylor," Raydor snapped. "I will not allow anyone, not even the President of the United States, to stop me from doing my sworn duty as an officer of the Los Angeles Police Department." She turned to look at Taylor. "You might remember it – it's emblazoned on every one of our squad cars, 'to protect, and to serve'." She turned back to Howard. "There are two Los Angeles Police Department detectives that are dead, and one civilian woman who is dead, and a young girl who is fighting for her life now, and a young woman who is now without her father, as a result of the two John Does that you are deliberately withholding information that we need to find out who the third person is, the one that actually murdered Detective Romero."

She heard a cough from behind her – it was Sanchez. "Special Agent Howard, Ignacia Amy Romero lost her father today, and is now without either of her parents. Because of the circumstances of this case, as the evidence has demonstrated to everyone here, she is quite possibly in mortal danger, in part because the President of the United States decided that his internal needs outrank the need for the citizens of the city and county of Los Angeles to be safe from people who wantonly and coldly murder police officers and innocent people. If you would like to explain to her why you don't want to help me find her father's murderer, please do so now."

Raydor turned and walked to stand beside Romero's right side, with Sanchez on her left. "Special Agent Howard, if you would like to change my mind regarding your being a liaison, you have some phone calls to make, and some information to provide to us." She turned to Romero. "It is time for you to identify your father's body, and it is also time for me to honor my promise to you, to give you some information about what happened to him today." She took one step toward the door.

"Oh, Special Agent Howard," Hobbs spoke up. "You might realize that withholding material information in the investigation of a homicide is a felony in the state of California. A Federal official has never been charged before under the statute, but, in this case, I'm willing to risk my career to obtain an arrest warrant to hold you as a material witness, without bail, in order to get the material information that you have." She started tapping at her phone. "If you do not want me to arrest you as a material witness in the next ten minutes, Special Agent Howard, you need to collaborate fully and promptly with Captain Raydor, now." She turned toward the door, walked two steps while tapping, then whirled to glare at Howard. "Of course, this offer is only good for the next five minutes."

Howard glared at Hobbs, then turned to Raydor. "I'm sorry, Captain Raydor, but I can't provide you with the information now, because I cannot disobey a direct order of the President of the United States."

Raydor very quietly replied, "Then you had better make some calls, Special Agent Howard." She looked at Chief Taylor. "I trust that you will find a way to convince him to cooperate with us?"

Taylor walked to Romero, the exasperation on his face that was present from the beginning of the presentation completely gone now. "Miss Romero," he stopped, dabbed his face with a handkerchief, took a deep breath. "I promise you that I will do all that I am able to do to find out what happened today." He turned to Howard. "Special Agent Howard, come with me, we need to speak with Chief Pope."

Howard stood, arms crossed, not moving. Taylor strode to him, and put his hand on the small of Howard's back. "Now!" Taylor insisted. They walked out.

"I'm still working on the material witness warrant," Hobbs told Raydor.

"Thank you," Raydor replied. "Provenza, if there's any news, please call me immediately." She took in everyone in her squad. "I would like to thank you for your efforts tonight, and in advance for what you're doing now, at this late hour." She squeezed Romero's hand. "I believe that Cadet Romero will thank you later."

A choking sob, a clearing of a throat. "Thank you, everyone," Romero barely got the words out, trying to smile.

"Ignacia, we need to go now," Sanchez kissed Romero's forehead.

Romero stiffened, and Raydor led them out. Hobbs, still tapping on her phone, followed.


	6. Chapter 6

December 11th, 2325

Sanchez was driving to the morgue, while Raydor and Romero sat in the back seat; Hobbs was still texting furiously while sitting up front with Sanchez.

"Did your father ever take you on a tour of places where he worked?" Raydor asked.

"As much as he could," Romero smiled, "even to the point of violating Regulations." She shuddered a bit. "But I have had to go to the morgue once, to identify my mother's body, three years ago." A deep breath. "She was killed in a hit-and-run felony on the 405, by someone who had robbed a bank and stolen his getaway car the night before."

"And your father was investigating the stolen car," Raydor patted Romero's hand, "and couldn't leave the scene?"

"He verified that it was the stolen car," Romero replied, "but then was ordered by the incident commander to get witness statements on the scene, so that he wouldn't see the suspect after he had been arrested."

"I don't think that he would have done anything," Raydor had a tear in her eye, "but the incident commander didn't want to take any chance."

"And my father did manage to get to the morgue shortly after I had completed the identification paperwork," Romero replied, "because the incident commander knew he wanted to be there, but he also wanted to help make sure the suspect was convicted."

Raydor's phone sounded. "Raydor."

"Commander Reed. Based on the evidence, I am convinced that there is no need for FID to continue this investigation any longer, because the force used by Detective Romero was justified, and within the scope of Los Angeles Police Department regulations."

Raydor smiled. "Thank you, Commander. How are your other investigations going?"

"Still in progress."

"I know that you offered your assistance, Commander," Raydor continued, "but will you be able to, given all that you have going on?"

"If I have to go to one of the scenes," Reed replied, "I can go there from here as easily as I can from home. And I will tell you no, if I have to."

"Fair enough, Commander," Raydor replied. "Thank you." She disconnected the call. Her phone immediately sounded. "Raydor."

"Captain." It was Morales. "Has Ms. Romero been to the morgue before?"

"To the actual morgue once," Raydor replied, "but, I don't think she has been to the examination suites before." She glanced at Romero, shaking her head. "She hasn't been to the examination suites."

"So she has done an identification before?"

"Yes, for her mother."

"This is going to be a different experience for her," Morales was trying to be extraordinarily calm. "Please ask her if she would like something to drink."

"Would you like something to drink there?" Raydor asked Romero.

"A dulcex ex."

Raydor quizzically replied to Morales, "A dulchexex?"

"Ah! Captain, that's a double expresso with dulce de leche," Morales chuckled. "I could use one myself. Would you like one as well?"

"I shouldn't," Raydor said, "if I want to have some sleep tonight, but yes, please." She looked toward Sanchez and Hobbs. "Would either of you like a…" she hesitated.

"A dulcex ex? Yes, please," Sanchez replied.

"I may need a double dulcex ex," Hobbs sighed.

"Would it be possible for you to make two more?" Raydor took a deep breath, "Dulcex ex?"

"Now you've gotten it, Captain," Morales replied, "I'll have Sam make them right now." He took a very audible deep breath. "Are you armed, Captain?"

"I am not," Raydor replied, "but Detective Sanchez is." She frowned.

"I am happy to hear that," Morales replied, "please hurry." He hung up.

Raydor turned back to Romero. "What happened in your mother's case?"

Romero patted Raydor's hand. "He was convicted of armed robbery, assault with a deadly weapon, grand theft auto, manslaughter, and hit-and-run felony, and is serving life without parole at San Quentin, because that was his third, fourth, fifth, and sixth strikes."

Raydor sighed. "I had to ask, because if he could have gotten out, he would be a suspect." She peered into Romero's eyes. "When you are working as an LAPD officer, Cadet Romero, you must make certain that you check everything, even if it is a low probability, because to make a case in court, you have to show that you have done your due diligence."

"My father kept telling me that," Romero responded. "In fact, he told me that last night, after dinner, as I was studying." She almost broke into tears, but managed to take a deep breath, and maintain some control.

Sanchez stopped the car. "We're here, Captain."

Raydor held Romero's hand in hers, squeezed. Romero nodded, "Let's go."

December 12th, 0010

Entering the Department of Medical Examiner-Coroner building on North Mission Road, Morales was waiting for them inside the security door.

"Miss Romero," Morales examined her face with concern, "unless you are an active investigator in the case in question, it is against normal procedure for you to be present in the room where the autopsy has taken place." His eyebrows arched high, as he noticed that she was under quite firm control of her faculties. "However, in the circumstances, I am going to make an exception, because I do have a few questions for you, under my authority as a medical examiner for the County of Los Angeles."

A man with some Korean descent apparent on his face, of perhaps 25 years' age, walked in, with a tray of cups. "Thank you, Sam," Morales distributed cups to everyone, including the man. "This is Sam Kim, my intern for this year."

Raydor sipped. "Thank you, Sam." Everyone else echoed her.

Morales pulled out two flash drives from his lab coat, and gave one to Raydor, and one to Hobbs. "This is the entire information that I have regarding the four bodies that I have completed the autopsies on. I will report to you in the autopsy room in a few moments." He glanced at the clock. "It is against regulations to have any food or drink in the autopsy room, and this is not something that I will make any exception for." He sipped. "Even for myself."

Everyone drank. "Do I detect some ginger?" Romero asked Kim.

"Just a little," he replied, "I know that it does increase mental efficiency.

"It tastes quite nice, too," Sanchez smiled.

Morales looked at Romero. "I know that you have identified a body before, here, but you have not been inside the autopsy room itself. If you are not able to act professionally in there, I will not allow you to come in."

Raydor held her hand up. "Ignacia is not yet experienced, as I am, but she is going to have to answer the question about whether she is going to be able to do her duty as a Los Angeles police officer in the way that she wishes to sometime."

Morales nodded. "I realize that, Captain, but given what has happened, I must give her the opportunity to defer that question for another time, given the very personal nature, to her, of this case." He turned to Romero. "It is not necessary for you to identify your father, if you do not want to, because I have worked with him on several cases in the past."

Romero closed her eyes, took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and slowly exhaled. Opening her eyes, she looked straight into Morales' eyes. "If I cannot do this now, how can I trust myself to do my duty in the future?" She turned to Raydor. "May I ask you to debrief me afterward?"

Raydor smiled. "Of course." She drained her cup; the rest followed suit. "Shall we go, Doctor?"

Morales smiled. "If I may assist in the debriefing, Captain?"

Raydor raised her eyebrows. "Are you thinking that you want to steal her from the LAPD, Doctor?"

Morales shook his head. "That's not going to happen." He looked at Romero, with a gleam in his eyes. "But I believe that, with her working eventually in FSD or TID, the LAPD will have the best person in scientific investigation that they have had since Ray Pinker and Leland Jones."

Walking to the door, Morales added, "It's hard to believe that anyone can be better than the leaders of FSD or TID are now, or Pinker and Jones then, but I really do see that as a possibility." He opened the door, and everyone followed him out.


	7. Chapter 7

December 12th, 0025

Walking toward the autopsy room, they saw a pair of burly men in suits and sunglasses flanking the door. Their outfits screamed "Federal agent of something very important and super top-secret."

"For the last time, gentlemen," Morales stated, with an icy calm, "please show me your identification, and state your business."

They shook their head. "It is a confidential Federal matter," the man on the left said.

"DDA Hobbs," Morales turned to her, "what legal right do these gentlemen have to have forced their way into my autopsy room?

Hobbs glared at the men. "Actually, as long as they show their identification, and submit to its validation by a responsible law enforcement officer, or an officer of the Court for the State of California, and state a valid purpose, they may not be charged with a crime under the statutes of the State of California." She took a breath. "The fact that they have not complied with your request, Doctor Morales, indicates that these gentlemen may be, in addition to being in violation of several state statutes, in violation of the "Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism Act of 2001."

She stepped forward to face the two men. "If you do not show Doctor Morales your identification, and submit to its validation by me or a person whom I may designate, and state your lawful purpose for committing trespass into this building, I will immediately arrest you under suspicion of violating the USA PATRIOT Act."

The men shook their heads. "We have the legal authority to be here," the man on the right said.

"Then show me a lawful Federal warrant," Hobbs replied, "or else I will arrest you, now."

They shook their heads. "You have no authority to do that," the man on the left said.

"But I do," Morales stated, "and as a lawful official of the County of Los Angeles, State of California, I have filed an official complaint against you for violating the laws of the State of California, in regards to trespassing, obstruction of justice, and whatever else DDA Hobbs finds there to be sufficient evidence to charge you with."

"Detective Sanchez," Hobbs turned her head, "please take these gentlemen into custody."

"You have the right to remain…" Sanchez began.

"No," Hobbs corrected, "I find that this arrest falls under the public safety exception to the USA Patriot Act, so they are not entitled to any Miranda warning." She glared at the men. "Just take them into custody."

Sanchez reached to his waist and pulled his handcuffs off of his belt. "Hands interlaced behind your heads," he ordered. The men refused to budge.

"I think that you ought to comply with Detective Sanchez, gentlemen," Raydor's voice was soft, icy, and more menacing than the .45 caliber Glock she had just retrieved from Sanchez's holster, which she aimed at the man on the right.

You could have heard a pin drop. A moment, two…and the two men interlaced their hands behind their heads. Sanchez handcuffed the first man, then took Raydor's handcuffs to handcuff the second man. He patted them down, and retrieved their guns, Glock .45's.

"Now, please go with DDA Hobbs to another room and search them," Raydor ordered Sanchez, "I would like to know who these men are." Sanchez and Hobbs took the two men out.

"Now, let's proceed, Captain," Morales opened the door to the autopsy room.

Four tables, four bodies. "Miss Romero, can you identify any of the persons here?"

She walked to the tables on the left. "This is Robert Stromwahl," Romero said, pointing to her left. "And this is my father, Theodore Benjamin Romero." She turned to face Morales and Raydor. "You have some questions for me?"

"In a moment," Morales replied. "First, I'd like to report on my post-mortem examinations." He pointed to Stromwahl's body. "He was struck by numerous rounds of 7.62 caliber munitions, twenty-six to be exact, head, neck, chest, and leg," He sighed. "Eight of the rounds were sufficient, in and of themselves, to have been the fatal wound." He lowered his head to look at the body. "Even if those eight had not hit him, the other eighteen would have caused him to bleed out."

Morales turned to the other table. "Detective Romero was struck by twenty rounds of 7.62 munitions, but only four did not strike him in his body armor vest." He glanced at Romero; she nodded. He removed the sheet from his body. "As you can see, one was a graze wound behind his head, one was a graze wound on the back of his neck, and one penetrated his left quadriceps." He pointed to the face of Romero's body. "There is one round that struck him, a kill shot, perfectly placed between his eyes, and that was from some distance."

"So, likely a better weapon than an AK-47," Raydor mused. "How much mobility would he have lost from the leg wound?"

"He was in a lot of pain," Morales replied, "per blood enzyme analysis, but if he could have ignored the pain, he could have fought for a little while." He turned to Romero, her face was frozen, but she was breathing normally. "Your father died instantaneously from the shot to his head."

Romero nodded, then pointed to her father's body. "The bruising on the side of his abdomen?"

"Those are from the rounds that hit his body armor vest," Morales replied.

"Have you called SID?" Raydor asked. "They will want to do an analysis of the body armor."

"I haven't had time," Morales replied. "It is secured in another place in the building."

"That's a good thing," Raydor nodded. "I take it that hi-def imaging of the vest is on the flash drive?"

Morales nodded.

Romero stepped to her father's body, by his head, bowed her head, and began fingering a rosary, " _Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos, santificado sea tu nombre_ ," Tears welled in her eyes.

Raydor and Morales stepped to her side, and joined in, " _Venga tu reyno, hagase tu voluntad, asì en la tierra como en el cielo. Danos hoy nuestro pan cotidiano, Y perdónanos nuestras deudas, asì como nosotros perdonamos á nuestros deudores. Y no nos metas en tentación, mas líbranos de mal. Amén._ "

Romero raised her head, wiped the tears from her eyes, and asked Morales, "We have two more victims."

Morales smiled. "We do, and these two are very interesting." He led Raydor and Romero to the space between the other two bodies. "As you'll notice, there's only one round fired into each of these victims, execution-style in the backs of their head." Pulling the sheets from their bodies, he continued, "No bruising on their abdomen at all, and their body armor was not hit by any firearm rounds."

Raydor pointed at their legs. "That bruising…I've never seen that kind of bruising before." She looked at Romero, "I must tell you what I know now, about what happened." She turned to Morales," Is there anything else you need to tell us about these two?"

Morales shook his head. "I will tell you exactly what we found after you brief Romero." He walked toward the door. "My office." They followed him.

"Are you going to leave these bodies here unguarded?" Raydor asked.

"They won't be," Commander Reed intoned, hand patting his sidearm. "But would you please lock the door, Doctor?"

The lock clicked, and Morales led Raydor and Romero toward his office.

December 12th, 0055

"I never knew a baton could do all that," Romero gasped at the x-rays on the monitor on Morales' desk.

"Your father was wounded, in some pain, and he knew that he was outnumbered and outgunned," Raydor replied. "Seeing just how much he must have been hurting, and dazed, and stressed, I am rather incredulous how clearly he analyzed the situation, and made a decision to attack as he did."

"He saw two attackers," Sanchez spoke from the door, "and a brief opportunity to attack, probably when they were changing clips, and he used it."

"And he had the situation under control, then he was killed by the third man that he did not see," Raydor sighed. "Do you think he could have seen him? Should he have?"

Sanchez frowned. "It was dusk, and he was concentrating on the two immediate threats to him." He shook his head. "I can't fault him for his tactics, even though technically, he should have waited for help."

"But he couldn't have," Raydor concluded, "given the totality of the situation." She closed her eyes for a moment, her brow furrowed. "Remember, he didn't know whether anyone in the Civic was alive."

"He looked," Sanchez replied, "but only for a second, because that's all the time he had."

"Which explains why he did not attempt to radio in again, after sending the shots fired transmission," Raydor added, "he knew that help would get there too late to help if he didn't immediately attack."

"Miss Romero," Morales interjected, "I do have your father's personal effects." He opened a drawer and pulled out an evidence bag. "Is there anything here that shouldn't be, or something here that should?"

Romero looked. "Wallet, keys, twenty dollars, some breath mints, some change…no, this is what he normally carries."

"I doubt that the shooter would have had time to search his body," Sanchez said.

"I was thinking that there might have been something that would have explained what happened," Morales replied.

Romero glared at Morales. Raydor interceded, before she could object. "I know it's difficult to hear that question," she calmly told Romero, "but it's not unprecedented for a police officer to be part of a criminal enterprise."

Romero took a deep breath. "You mean, like MS13?"

Raydor smiled. Morales raised his brow. "What did you notice?" he asked.

"I noticed the tattooing on both John Does," Romero replied, "but on John Doe Two, the tattoo on his shoulder was not cleanly done, like it was on John Doe One." She took a breath. "On Doe Two, there weren't any other tattoos but the coded MS13 one."

"I'd say that would be," Sanchez stopped. "Can I see the pictures?"

Morales tapped a couple of keys, the pictures came up on his monitor, and Sanchez looked over Morales' shoulder. "Yeah, One is an old school MS13, they aren't doing much in tattoos anymore – look at all the ink."

Raydor looked over Morales' other shoulder. "It looks like Two had that tattoo forcibly applied?"

Sanchez nodded. "I think it was a loyalty test…as well as being asked to participate in the shooting up the Civic."

"But the question is, why that Civic?" Raydor frowned. "It was a deliberate targeting…and why would a Federal agent get himself into that position?"

"That's probably why those men broke in," Sanchez sighed. "They didn't want that operation, whatever it was, blown."

Raydor picked up the phone, was about to dial, when it sounded. "Lieutenant Provenza?"

"Captain, Lieutenant Stoner just called from the hospital," Provenza sounded tired and hopeful. "It seems that the child victim made it through surgery okay, and may be awake in two hours, or a bit less."

"Good," Raydor replied. "Is Buzz there?"

"Yes," Provenza growled. "What's up?"

"I want him to run facial recognition comparison scans, comparing Maria Camacho with CIIS databases first, then other state databases, but no international or Federal databases," Raydor replied. "Then, please pick up Cadet Romero and take her with you to interview the child."

"I think Sanchez should take her," Provenza growled.

"I need him for another assignment," Raydor replied, firmly but calmly. "MS13 is involved in some way."

A low whistle. "All right, Captain," Provenza replied. "Buzz is starting the recognition check, and Tao is also using his computer to access other state databases at the same time."

"When will you get here?" Raydor asked. "Make it code two."

"Fifteen minutes from now," Provenza replied. The call disconnected.

A buzzer sounded on Morales' desk. He looked at his monitor. "Captain Raydor, you will have company in one minute."

"Captain Raydor, a word, please," a very harassed Chief Pope addressed Raydor. Walking into Morales' office with him were Chief Taylor, Special Agent Howard, and a very harassed and upset person.

"Deputy Director Malcolm, DEA," the harassed person introduced himself. "I would like to know where my two men that I sent here are?"


	8. Chapter 8

December 12th, 0130

DEA Director Malcolm's question was only the beginning, as Pope and Taylor joined him in interrogating a seated Raydor, looming over her.

"I do not appreciate you being insubordinate to Chief Taylor…"

"Disrespecting the President of the United States – how can I explain that to the Times?"

"I am the DEA, I am more important than you ever will be…"

"I don't understand why you don't just trust the FBI, I mean, Brenda did…"

Sanchez stepped next to Raydor, growing red-faced, but managing to stay silent.

Raydor looked up at the four men speaking loudly to her, arms crossed, trying to wait for them to stop talking. She looked to her right, and saw Romero begin to shudder, a tear appearing in her eye. Raydor opened her mouth…

"Shut…up!" It was Morales. He marched to stand before Malcolm, glaring into his black eyes.

Pope's mouth froze wide open. Taylor stuttered into silence. Howard's face turned red.

"How dare you tell me to shut up?" Malcolm sputtered. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

"Mr. Malcolm," Raydor was impressed by how icily calm Morales was – was he trying to channel her, she thought. "In the County of Los Angeles, the person responsible for the determination of the cause of death of any person who dies when a doctor is not in attendance is a representative of the Los Angeles County Department of Medical Examiner – Coroner, in accordance with the laws of the State of California."

Morales took a deep breath. "I am the lawful representative of the County of Los Angeles, State of California, executing my statutory duty under the law. You, sir, do not have any right to come into my office and attack Captain Raydor." Morales transferred his glare down the line, from Howard, to Pope, to Taylor. "And neither do you. Now, sit down, and shut up, while I explain what is going on."

"You don't have any right to…" Malcolm yelled.

Howard slapped Malcolm. "Actually, Jim, he does – this is his office, and this is all under his legal responsibility until he is completed." He turned to Morales. "I should know better, and I will try to explain, after you're through."

"I appreciate that, Agent Howard," Morales calmed down a little. "Now, gentlemen, if you please – that sofa is relatively comfortable."

They sat down.

"One moment, gentlemen," Morales touched his phone. "Sam, please come to my office."

Sam walked in. Morales beckoned him to stand beside him, facing the sofa. "First, I would ask you to look at this young man's face." Bruising was beginning to show on his left eye . "Remember that for a moment."

Morales walked to Romero, and proffered her his hand, helping her to stand. "Miss Romero, would you please go with Sam to wait for Lieutenant Provenza?" He turned to Sam. "And she could use another dulcex ex, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Doctor," Sam replied. "No ginger this time, Miss Romero?"

"You may call me Ignacia, Sam," Romero smiled, a bit weakly, "and I think a little bit more ginger this time…" They walked out. Raydor sighed, relaxing. Sanchez exhaled, and sat next to Raydor.

"There were two men that tried to enter this building earlier this evening," Morales stopped. "I mean, late last night. They claimed to be agents of the Drug Enforcement Administration, but showed my intern, Sam, no identification. They also showed no warrant or court order. They forced the security door open, and when Sam tried to stop them, he was assaulted by both men, one of whom punched him in the left eye, as you saw, and the other shoved him out of the way." Morales pressed a button – the television facing the sofa powered on, and the security video of the incident played.

"I asked the two men, ostensibly DEA agents, to show identification, and state what lawful purpose they had for forcing their way into my autopsy room, in the presence of several witnesses, and they refused." He took another breath. "Given what I saw in the autopsy, I believed that the two men may have been terrorists, or other organized criminals of some sort, so DDA Hobbs placed the two men under arrest on my request."

"Where are they now?" Malcolm asked.

"I don't know where DDA Hobbs took them," Morales replied. He turned to Sanchez. "Did Hobbs tell you?"

Sanchez shook his head. "After placing them under arrest non-Mirandized, citing the Patriot Act's public safety exception, she said that she was taking them to an undisclosed location for further interrogation." Raydor noticed that he tried not to laugh, or smile, and just barely managed to keep his voice on a perfectly even level.

"She can't do that!" Howard exclaimed. "Patriot Act is only usable for Federal jurisdiction."

"Actually," Chief Pope broke in, "under the SoCal Regional Security Interagency Agreement of March 24th, 2008 – you remember, after that when Brenda had to train her squad in emergency and terrorism response?" Howard and Taylor groaned. Pope continued, "Under that agreement, the Los Angeles County District Attorney, or the designee thereof, can employ the USA Patriot Act." He turned to Malcolm. "Were those two men yours?"

Malcolm nodded.

"Now, sir," Morales peered at Malcolm, "you have some explaining to do."

Malcolm frowned, but he began. "The two John Does you have were involved in a confidential operation of the DEA."

"And?"

"That's all I can tell you."

Morales shook his head. "If you're going to lie, sir, make sure that the person that you're lying to doesn't already know the truth, or where to easily find it." He glared. "I know that both John Does show evidence that they belong to MS 13."

"I can't tell you anything else," Malcolm replied.

"That won't work, Jim," Howard told him. "Especially since Captain Raydor has been briefed by Morales, and surely has all the evidence from the scene."

"I don't care if you tell me or not," Morales said. "If you don't tell me what you know, or if someone else doesn't, I could find that you and your men are part of a criminal conspiracy, and ask DDA Hobbs if she agrees."

Pope turned to Malcolm. "And Hobbs would agree, and the law would be on her side."

Morales nodded. "What I want now is the answer to this question – was one of the Does one of your agents, planted into MS 13 undercover?"

"I will have you arrested for violation of national security," Malcolm replied.

"Don't be daft," Raydor spoke. "Cadet Romero knew that the moment she saw both Does."

"How did she know that?" Malcolm yelled. "She's probably a gang slut!"

"Perhaps," Taylor snapped, "you might not speak ill of an orphaned daughter of a decorated, third-generation, officer of the LAPD, who was shot by your agent and his MS 13 partners."

"He wasn't supposed to kill anyone!" Malcolm clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Ah," Morales sighed. "You need to write a statement now, detailing everything involved in this operation of yours, completely, in detail."

"I can't," Malcolm objected.

"If you don't," Taylor snapped, "I will arrest you, and deliver you to DDA Hobbs myself, without Miranda, for USA Patriot Act public safety exception interrogation."

Malcolm looked at Howard; Howard shook his head. "All right."

Morales had brought a pad and pen. "Start writing." He turned to Taylor and Pope. "One of you needs to stay here with him, and one needs to come with me and Captain Raydor."

"I'll stay," Sanchez replied.

"No, Julio," Raydor said. "I need you with me, now, because of your experience in Gangs."

While Malcolm was writing, Howard and Pope sat on the sofa and watched. The rest went to the autopsy room.

Morales showed Taylor the two Does. Say what you will about Chief Taylor's personality, he is a good police officer - he immediately noticed the fact about the tattoos.

Taylor turned to Raydor. "When did you know that this was a busted DEA operation?"

"We don't know that now," Raydor replied, "until Mr. Malcolm's statement is verified, as far as possible, from independent sources." She shook her head. "I guessed something like this was a probability when Special Agent Howard told me that he couldn't tell us about the two John Does, and that the order came from the White House." She frowned. "When Dr. Morales asked me to hurry, and asked if I was armed, I thought the probability was greater at that moment."

Taylor groaned. "I hate these messes." He groaned again. "If this is really a Federal case, they can make it impossible for us to solve it, in so many ways." A deep breath. "But, they may make it impossible for us to get justice on behalf of Detective Romero, and that's not something that I want, either."

"I think, Chief," Raydor soothingly replied, "that, even if there's not a public trial, as long as we know, and can tell Cadet Romero, at least she will have peace."

"That's not what she would prefer, just peace," Sanchez added, "but I think that would be enough."

"Oh, Chief Taylor," Morales spoke. "Be sure that you and Chief Pope both see me in a couple of days – I am required to talk with you about something, but you should complete this case first." He escorted everyone out of the room.

"Captain," Morales continued, "Maria Camacho's body will be here shortly, and I need to complete that autopsy." He shook his head slowly. "I don't expect anything unusual about her case – if I see something, I will call you."

"Thank you, Dr. Morales," Raydor replied. Morales walked toward the elevator.

"What is going on now?" Taylor asked Raydor.

"Provenza and Cadet Romero will be waiting to interview the child who survived," Raydor replied. "Tao and Watson are doing facial comparisons of Mrs. Camacho." She sighed. "As soon as I get the statement from Mr. Malcolm, I will decide what avenues of inquiry will be explored immediately, and I have Flynn, Sykes, and Sanchez available right now for that."

"If you can get some sleep, do so soon," Taylor replied.

"A power nap seems like a good idea," Raydor admitted. "But, in my office." Raydor and Sanchez walked to the elevator.


	9. Chapter 9

December 12th, 0200

"Detective Sanchez," Raydor regarded him. "What exactly is your relationship with the Romero family?"

"I was a few years senior to Ted," Sanchez replied, "and I was his mentoring officer at Foothill Division, when he graduated from the Academy. We became close friends, but after he completed his tour with me, he was assigned to another division, and I made detective, so our relationship at that point was personal and shop-talk only." He pulled the car over, parked, and turned off the ignition.

"When he asked me to be Ignacia's godfather, I was surprised, but I gladly agreed. I became her "uncle" over the years." He turned to face Raydor. "Have you ever been to a _Quinceañera_ , ma'am?"

"No, I haven't," Raydor replied, "but I have seen a few stories about them on television."

"She asked me to dance with her, after she danced with her father," Sanchez was looking past Raydor now. "Of course, I would have done anything for her before this – being a godfather in Hispanic culture is a very serious thing – but if anyone had tried to hurt her from then, I don't know how far I would have gone."

Raydor noticed that Sanchez was looking at her, but not seeing her. "Ted was a detective by this time, and we had worked a couple of cases together, some gangs going into the car theft business. In some ways, he was a better detective than anyone else in the department, and I think that kept me from getting into some trouble."

"How so, Julio?"

"There was a moment, just after his wife was killed," Sanchez closed his eyes for a moment, and shuddered. "I was at the morgue when the ambulance arrived with her body, and I saw her. I asked the escorting officer from Traffic Division if Ted had been notified, and he told me that she had been hit by a stolen vehicle on a case that he had been working on, and he was helping Traffic cover the accident scene." He opened his eyes, and wiped away a tear. "I certainly wouldn't have stayed at the scene doing that, then, but he did." He shook his head. "Captain, I'm definitely not perfect, my temper is not completely under control, but how could I not try harder to control myself, after that?"

"And I do know that a significant amount of police force issues are partially as a result of the difficult task that we, as a department, expect Gangs to do," Raydor replied. "If there was one thing that I have to look back on during my time at FID, that might have been it."

"You would have had a difficult task doing that, Captain," Sanchez replied. "You know that a lot of the gangs don't give a damn about anyone's lives, even their own, when it comes down to it."

"Yes, I remember what happened when Chief Johnson handled the Turrell Baylor case," Raydor said. "And I also failed, because I'm still not certain what can be done to make sure that those officers working in Gangs can be safe while also complying completely with Department policies."

"Being safe is not something a police officer can completely be," Sanchez replied. "Actually, Ted told me, after one bad day for both of us, 'We knew what we were signing up for when we put in our applications down at Room 5, didn't we?'" Sanchez shook his head. "But, yesterday, he didn't."

Raydor smiled. "The evidence says that Detective Romero knew perfectly well what he was signing up for."

Sanchez thought for a moment. "In that situation, that's not anything that's specifically taught in any training I've ever seen." He smiled. "And it almost worked."

"I think," Raydor said, "that there was institutional memory, or genetic conditioning, or something that isn't anything that we can see, involved." She shook her head. "Third generation officer – that must run in the family."

Sanchez turned on the ignition, pulled out into the street. "And Ignacia – she really is something too."

Raydor's phone rang. "Brenda?"

"I can't tell you why I am calling you now," the former chief of Major Crimes replied, tiredly. "But, I need you to go immediately, and alone, to MacArthur Park, by the band shell."

"I'm sorry, Brenda, but it's not safe at normal times, and right now, the situation is definitely not safe."

"I have it on good authority," Johnson replied, "that you will be safe. And it is imperative that you go, now, because there will be some important information for you there."

Raydor frowned. "All right. I will be there in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you, Sharon," Johnson sighed, "you have no idea how important this is." She hung up.

"Can you cover the band shell at MacArthur Park without being seen?" Raydor asked Sanchez.

"There's no cover for me to do so," Sanchez replied. "The closest I could be would be about 500 feet, and even that cover is rather thin."

"Too far for you to effectively shoot if you had to," Raydor said. "May I have your sidearm, please?"

"I'm not leaving you at the park alone, ma'am," Sanchez retorted. "But yes, you may use it."

"Is there parking nearby to the band shell?"

Sanchez pursed his lips. "About 300 feet away, to its right." He pulled the vehicle over, and stopped.

"Very good, Julio," Raydor said. "Just what I was thinking." Sanchez got into the back seat and lay down, while Raydor walked to the driver's side. She stopped. "Is there a shotgun in the trunk?"

Sanchez smiled. "I believe there's a sawed-off in this unit."

"Good," Raydor grinned. "It won't save me if something goes awry, but I can't fault you if Dr. Morales has to spend hours trying to piece together anyone who gets in my way."

December 12th, 0230

The Levitt Pavilion band shell was, like the rest of MacArthur Park, deserted as Raydor parked. She walked slowly to the front of the stage.

"Captain Raydor, good morning," a very distinctive voice intoned.

"Commissioner Schmidt?"

"Your memory is as good as Brenda's, I see," Schmidt stepped out from the wings. "I know you have someone with you in the vehicle." He shook his head. "I can't blame you, given the circumstances." He stooped to sit on the lip of the stage. Raydor lifted herself up to sit next to him. "Is it one of your squad?"

"Detective Sanchez," Raydor replied, "he was with me in the car when Brenda called."

"Would he recognize me?"

"I doubt that he would, but I also think that he would trace you if he could, if he thought he needed to."

"I think I should be able to trust him," Schmidt said, "but I think if I speak quickly, I won't need to." He took a breath. "I think you can guess that I was with "the Company" previously, and still have contacts there."

Raydor nodded.

"I think you…no, I won't lie to you," Schmidt continued, "I know that there are people at the DEA and at the White House, not the President himself, but senior people on the National Security Council, that do not want you to investigate this case."

Raydor opened her mouth, but Schmidt shushed her. "I won't lie to you, Special Agent Howard discussed this situation with his wife, and she called me, because they're both worried that you're in very deep water, as it were, with no life jacket, and no boat, and with lots of sharks about." He sighed. "If you're thinking that there's a cover up due to some errors by the government in an operation, you're right, and the people at the NSC and DEA want it to stay covered up."

"But Howard doesn't?"

"He has to follow orders that the Attorney General gives him," Schmidt sighed, "and the Attorney General did give him orders to do what he has done."

"I am willing to yield to lawful Federal jurisdiction," Raydor slowly replied, "as long as all aspects of the assertion of such jurisdiction is within the law." She took a deep breath. "No warrant, no court order, and Dr. Morales' intern physically assaulted – this is not a lawful assertion of Federal jurisdiction."

"And it can't be, as long as they want to cover up," Schmidt agreed.

"Are you telling me to give in?" Raydor snapped.

Schmidt smiled. "Brenda told me that you'd serve neither the king nor the Church, if it came to it." He shook his head. "I know that two LAPD detectives are dead, and an innocent woman is dead, and an innocent young girl is fighting for her life right now, as a result of the situation that was created by the government." He stood up, and proffered a hand to Raydor, helping her stand. "But, please, Captain Raydor, be careful."

Raydor nodded. "I don't care about operations failed or anything in the White House, unless it gets in my way of solving this case." She smiled. "All I want is to bring the murderer of Detective Romero to justice, and if I have to convince DDA Hobbs to make a deal to avoid as much as possible of this alphabet soup nonsense to come to light in open court, I will."

She proffered her hand to Schmidt, and they shook hands. "But Brenda's right, I serve neither the Church nor the king, but I serve and protect the citizens and guests of the City of Los Angeles."

"And right now, you have the daughter of Detective Romero to protect," Schmidt agreed. "If you need any assistance, please let Special Agent Howard know – he is on the same page as you are in this case, whether he looks like it or not."

Raydor's phone buzzed. "Thank you, Commissioner." She looked at the text. "That innocent young girl was taken back to surgery." The flash of anger in her eyes startled Schmidt; the icy calm of her voice matched her eyes perfectly. "The doctors say that there's a 50/50 chance that she won't survive." She walked away, then turned back. "Maybe the king and the Church can explain that." She walked back toward the car.


	10. Chapter 10

December 12th, 0250

"Ma'am," Sanchez looked at Raydor, "please calm down."

Raydor glanced at Sanchez. "It's that obvious?"

Sanchez nodded. "You're trying to stay calm, but you're very angry." He took a deep breath. "Think of where you are in this case, and what you have to do next – did anything happen just now to change things?"

Raydor raised her eyebrow. "Actually, it doesn't change what we need to do, but it does confirm that we have to do so quickly, and very carefully."

"We'd better get that flash drive to Lieutenant Tao," Sanchez said, "because if the Feds do get a search warrant for Morales' computers, they'll know that someone has all his data on this case, and then we'll have problems."

"More than we have now, that is," Raydor winced. "I'm wondering how Ignacia is doing."

"Lieutenant Provenza lectured at the Academy a few weeks ago, and I think he may do some more lecturing," Sanchez grinned, "just to keep her mind off of things."

"That reminds me," Raydor said, "her final examinations are tomorrow, and we can't let her go to the Academy, for her protection. I'll need to call Chief Pope about that."

"Oh, where is Rusty?" Sanchez realized. "I don't remember you calling him."

"He's at a three-day resident law enforcement exploratory conference at UCLA," Raydor replied, "and he is under the care of Father Jack, who is one of the lecturers." She smiled. "With all the law enforcement there, and the fact that he doesn't even have to leave a four block area of campus, he's perfectly safe."

"How can you be sure?" Sanchez asked.

"Lieutenant Cooper is also lecturing there, and he's been assigned the supervision of Rusty's protective surveillance detail," Raydor smiled. "And Jack won't let anything happen to Rusty, either."

December 12th, 0300

"Lieutenant Provenza?" A hand shook Provenza's shoulder.

"If it's you, Heather, I already took out the garbage."

"Lieutenant?"

Provenza's eyes snapped open. "Thank God!"

"Lieutenant Stoner would like you to come up to the surgery waiting room," Romero said.

"You're coming with me," Provenza replied.

"Lieutenant Stoner said that I was not supposed to come," Romero said.

"Like hell, you aren't!" Provenza levered himself to his feet. "You're here for two reasons, Cadet Romero – to help me interview the witness, in case our witness speaks in Spanish, and for your protection, in case the perp who shot your father was targeting him, and thus, you."

"You try arguing with him," Romero replied. "He sounds like a cut-rate Joe Friday who ran out of cigarettes."

"Yeah, and he outranks you in every detail," Provenza agreed. "And he's equal in rank to me, and this happened in his division, so I can't order him directly." He groaned. "Dammit, these chairs are too comfortable at first, and way too uncomfortable after!" Stretching his arms over his head, then lowering them, he added, "I have orders from Captain Raydor, and if he wants me to disregard them, he's going to find out that sounding like my second wife won't cut any ice with me." He walked toward the elevators. "Or is that my fourth?"

On exiting the elevator, Provenza could see why Romero said what she did about Stoner – the angular face showing more than the thirty years' experience he had logged with the LAPD, the eyes drooping slightly, and the nervous tapping of his right hand on the counter at the nurse's station.

"George, can I talk with you for a moment?" Provenza motioned to Romero to sit down and read a magazine; she picked up an ancient copy of _National Geographic_.

"I said that she wasn't supposed to come," Stoner replied, "why is she here?"

"George, I brought her, because my commander, Captain Sharon Raydor, ordered me to keep her with me at all times while I am here." Provenza was tired too, but he was trying to be nice."

"Yeah, I know," Stoner sighed. _Yeah_ , Provenza thought, _he_ _ **could**_ _use a cigarette_. "I'm sorry, Louie, I am tired of working my ass off, and every time there's a really big case, I get ignored, and no credit."

"That's not the way the captain's putting it in her reports," Provenza replied. "I also know Detective Sanchez specifically cited Sergeant Chen as doing an exceptional job coordinating Pacific Division's immediate response to his request for assistance."

Stoner sighed, tried to smile. "Want some coffee?"

"If you want a smoke," Provenza replied, "is there any place on this floor where you can take a few puffs?"

"I used to want a smoke, really bad sometimes," Stoner smiled. He took the proffered cup of coffee from the nurse. "Thanks, ma'am." A big sip, a huge sigh. "Thank heavens the Department paid for people to quit, it's made quite a difference to me, I feel a lot better most of the time."

"Except for times like this," Provenza smiled at the nurse who had handed him a cup without his knowing it. "Two sugars? How did you know, ma'am?" Provenza beamed.

"The look on your face said you needed two," the nurse replied. "And, you're both welcome."

"Any change?" Stoner asked the nurse.

Her face dropped to the monitor, looking at telemetry and video. "It looks like the surgery will be successful, to the extent that she should live, and be out of danger of death, if she makes it past the next twelve hours." She shook her head. "Doctor Hall will have further details – but it's still questionable how much she will be able to be physically active, how much permanent disability she will have."

A sob, then a brief silence, then Romero quietly holding her rosary: " _Dios te salve, María. Llena eres de gracia: El Señor es contigo. Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres…_ "

"That's the situation as far as her future recovery," the nurse said. "As for when she will be awake, and sufficiently clear headed to talk with you, I would guess from six to eight hours."

"Thanks," Stoner sighed. "Is she good enough to be an LAPD officer?"

Provenza glared at Stoner. "Her father died trying to protect our witness from further harm, and she's still in danger of death." He shook his head. "Right now, at this moment, if you were her, what in the hell else could you do?" He regarded Romero. "I envy her, you know – a rosary is something to help her hold on to her faith."

"And her faith is for someone she doesn't even know," Stoner replied. "I knew Maria and her daughter, I often stopped at the bakery where she worked, when it was my turn to buy treats for the on-watch shift for the day." He smiled as he watched Romero pray her rosary. "Yeah, she's good enough."

"Maybe you had better get some sleep, gentlemen," the nurse replied. "I'll get you a couple of cots for the room next to her recovery room."

Provenza and Stoner opened their mouths to ask a question, but the nurse forestalled them. "I'll get a cot for the young lady in the patient's room…"

"She's not a young lady, ma'am," Provenza replied. "That is Cadet, soon to be Probationary Officer, Ignacia Romero, LAPD."

"Lieutenant?" Sergeant Chen appeared at the desk. "I've relieved the remainder of the protective detail. Olson and Wynn are covering the main entrance, all stairwells are secured, and Arradondo and I will cover the hall by her room." He looked at his lieutenant. "Sir, maybe you can get some sleep at home."

"No, Li," Stoner replied, "I'm staying here."

"George," Provenza guided Stoner to the elevator, "I know you're going to be back in six hours if I tell you to get eight hours' sleep, so I'm telling you, get five hours of sack time, and be back here in six hours."

Stoner looked at Chen, who pointed to the elevator. "It's your duty to be alert, sir, and right now, you're not."

"I don't have anything for dinner," Stoner objected.

Chen put a paper sack in Stoner's hand. "A BMT with extra provolone, and a bag of Doritos, and a macadamia nut cookie."

Provenza laughed. "How do I transfer to Pacific, and get this kind of service?" As the elevator door closed, Provenza beckoned to Romero.

"If she wakes up before you or I do, the nurses will wake us both up." Provenza gestured to the gurney rolling out of the elevator. "If you're awake in six hours, wake me up."

"That sounds like an order, Lieutenant," Romero replied.

"That's only half of it," Provenza snorted. "Get used to getting ordered about. The second half of my order is, go right to sleep, because I'll light a candle in the chapel for you, so you can pray while you're sleeping."

Romero smiled. "I've prayed all that I can right now."

"I'll light a candle to pray for you, too," Provenza replied. "You're going to need to take bereavement leave as soon as the shock wears off, but right now, we need you to be at your best in the morning."

"Come with me, ma'am," the nurse led Romero to the nurse's locker room. "A nice hot shower, a change of clothes, and some warm milk, and you'll sleep well tonight."

Provenza gulped his coffee, and tossed the cup into the compost bin. He ambled to the elevator, got off on the first floor, then ambled to the chapel, dialing Raydor as he walked.


	11. Chapter 11

December 12th, 0330

"Lieutenant Provenza, just light the candle, and put a dollar bill in the coin box, and that's all that you need to do," Raydor talked on the phone. "I'll be taking a power nap in my office, should anything come up. Goodnight." Raydor disconnected the call.

"Did Provenza say that he was lighting a candle?" Sanchez couldn't believe what he thought he had heard.

"He put Cadet Romero to bed, and promised her that he would for her," Raydor replied. "The young girl's prognosis, long term, is, at best, questionable, as far as restoring her full health goes." She sighed. "But, she should live."

"I was thinking," Sanchez said, "since this is MS 13, and they targeted them…"

"How do you know it was deliberate?" Raydor was playing devil's advocate.

"The way that they fired on Stromwahl and Romero," Sanchez replied, "they could have fired at them before they turned the corner, as they had visual of them, and were well in range." He turned into the parking garage. "But, they waited until Stromwahl drove right in front of them."

"So who could have MS 13 thought Ms. Camacho was?" Raydor asked, rhetorically.

Sanchez parked the car, turned off the ignition. "If it was one of the smaller gangs here that they were after, she wouldn't have been an active in the gang in the first place, since she had a daughter." He opened his door and stepped out. "And, a revenge hit on her because one of her relatives was in the supposed gang wouldn't make sense, the way that they did it."

"Who else could Maria have been mistaken for?" Raydor closed her door. "She was definitely targeted."

"We'll see if facial recognit…oh!" Sanchez pulled out his cell, started dialing. "I need to call a contact at Gangs, I need to check something." He waited, then spoke, "Herrera? Julio Sanchez, Major Crimes, please give me a call as soon as possible, very urgent, thanks!"

"Hopefully, ma'am," Sanchez looked at Raydor, "Lieutenant Herrera will call me back very soon."

"What are you checking?" Raydor asked.

"Sinaloa," Sanchez replied.

Raydor's eyes widened. "That would be very bad." She walked to the elevator. "You'll explain shortly?"

"Yes, ma'am." Sanchez pressed the floor button. "Hopefully, he'll call me back very quickly."

December 12th, 0340

"Captain," Flynn greeted Raydor, "Special Agent Howard is in the break room, waiting for you."

Raydor noticed Tao and Buzz sleeping at their desks. Flynn explained, "When Tao said that he could automatically tag any picture that looked very close to Mrs. Camacho, and review them later, I told them to take a quick nap. They said the scanning would be done by 5:30."

"Any word on the three casings that killed the two Does and Detective Romero?" Raydor asked Sykes.

"Not yet, Captain," Sykes replied. "Apparently, two of the FID cases took priority over this case, but Ballistics said that the analysis would be done by 8 o'clock." She looked at her monitor. "But, looking at the images I have, the markings don't match the typical AK-47."

"Were you able to get data about the Does' body armor, apparently it was US Army issue?"

"Lieutenant Tao ordered me not to contact the Defense Department," Sykes said, "because of the lack of cooperation we've been getting from the Feds."

"Amy, Andy," Raydor frowned. "Can you get by with a three hour nap?"

Sykes was about to object, but Flynn gave her a shake of the head. "If something happens, Captain, please wake us up, so we don't miss out on getting a scumbag."

"Thank you, Amy, for not trying to be a hero," Raydor smiled, "I am going to need everyone on as high of efficiency as possible today." She strode to the breakroom.

"Special Agent Howard," she beckoned, "my office, please." He followed Raydor without an argument.

"Please sit down," Raydor settled into her chair, and watched Howard sit down across from her.

"You might remember what I said earlier this evening, in my murder room, regarding 'collaboration'," Raydor began. "I have reason to believe that you will collaborate with us now in regards to this case." She sipped from a bottle of water. "I do hope that I am correct."

"I do need to tell you that, as far as the circumstances of the events leading into the case in question here," Howard began, "the FBI had nothing to do with any of them." Raydor had passed a bottle of water to him; he took a sip. "And I was not kidding when I said that I have orders from the White House to not share any information that I or the FBI knows about those circumstances."

Raydor glared at Howard. Howard swallowed, and continued. "However, given the totality of the circumstances of the situation, especially what DDA Hobbs has done in regard to the two DEA agents, and what the DEA did as far as violate several Constitutional principles, as well as the California criminal statutes, I will, provided that this information is treated confidentially, that you confirm it from other sources before using it, share what I know with you."

Raydor looked at Howard over the top of her glasses. "With that stipulation agreed to, proceed."

"First, the DEA was trying to infiltrate MS 13," Howard began, "because there have been indications from various sources of intelligence that they are trying to gain a major foothold in the United States, in order to become the premier gang in North America." Howard sipped water. "And the intelligence indicated that they want to become bigger than the Mafia syndicates and the Mexican drug cartels, like Sinaloa."

Raydor nodded.

"Please, Captain, ask me questions that come to mind when you think of them," Howard said. "Next, US Army G-2 believes that the El Salvadoran Army has been infiltrated, because some specialized equipment given to it, under School of the Americas transfer programs, cannot be accounted for."

"Which probably explains the armor on our two Does," Raydor nodded. "However, I need two specific pieces of information, information that does not directly apply to this case, I will not need at this time. However, any supporting information that DDA Hobbs needs will be provided to her." She sipped water. "First, it is known that MS 13 operations in southern California involve, in part, the retail distribution of certain Mexican-supplied illicit drugs. If MS 13 was trying to take over in Los Angeles, what evidence does DEA have in regard to its target or targets?"

Howard shook his head. "That is not something DEA shared with me." He gulped some water. "But, I do know that there are certain Sinaloa and other Mexican cartel jobbers that regularly cross the border from Mexico, in order to coordinate the distribution of the wholesale lots to the various distributors, including MS 13's." He took a picture out of his inside sport coat pocket. "This woman was seen crossing into the United States at Nogales four days ago." He handed it to Raydor.

Raydor smiled. "Next, who was the DEA agent that wound up becoming one of our John Does?" She took a breath. "And, how in the world did they lose control of his situation, so he wound up committing two homicides, and nearly two more?"

Howard shook his head. "Malcolm wouldn't tell me either of these things. But, if he doesn't include them in his statement to Dr. Morales, he will face arrest by DDA Hobbs, and I won't help him." He gulped air, and exhaled slowly. "My guess, is that they never should have tried that operation in the first place. And I do know that FBI HQ did recommend more advanced remote surveillance, rather than undercover into MS 13, and the DEA HQ overrode the recommendation, and placed the undercover into MS 13." He shook his head. "They thought they had control, but it looks like they never did have it."

"Does Brenda know about this?" Raydor asked.

"I think she said about Malcolm, and I quote," Howard replied, "'Bless his heart.'" He grinned. "I honestly think that she would have slapped that bastard had she had this case, instead of you."

"Is Chief Pope still with Malcolm?" Raydor smiled.

"Yes, and I'm not sure how long he's going to be," Howard replied. "Malcolm is being, you know, obstinately stupid."

Raydor stood up. "Maybe you need to go home and get some sleep."

Howard rose from his chair, and offered her his hand to shake. "If there's anything that I can do to help, as long as you don't reveal sources, please ask."

"I will be asking, as soon as I know what to ask for," Raydor assented. She walked Howard to the elevator.

Returning to the murder room, she gently touched Tao on the shoulder. "Mike?"

Tao snapped awake. "I'm sorry, Captain, I was getting tired."

Raydor shook her head, and handed Tao the picture. "This may help."

Tao's eyes lit up. "This is an ICE photo. Where was this taken?"

"Nogales border station, inbound, four days ago."

Tao tapped keys. "I can check this in ten minutes." He frowned. "I could use a better laptop, Captain, this is slow right now!" A moment of tapping. "Okay, that search is queued up, now we wait."

"Find out what the license plate of that car was," Sanchez said. "That was a Civic?"

"Yes, that is a Civic," Tao replied. "The ICE entry log will have the license plate number."

"That was Herrera?" Raydor turned to Sanchez.

"He has a couple of informants near Venice Beach that told him that there has been a Mexican woman handling the relations between Sinaloa and MS 13 lately," Sanchez replied, handing a printed picture to Raydor. "One of them got a cell phone picture."

"Let me see," Tao said, comparing the two pictures. "Could be a match."

"If the Civic had an Arizona license plate of TLD 484, it would be," Sanchez replied.

"Would ICE have the VIN of the Civic that she drove?" Raydor asked.

"No," Tao said, "but, since that car and license plate is likely a one trip use car, for this trip only, as long as she's still in the US, we should be able to get a local broadcast and an APB out for it immediately."

Tao's computer beeped. "Here it is. Graciela dos Santos de la Guerra, license plate matches, and no record of it crossing back into Mexico." A couple more taps. "Local broadcast? APB? Arrest, or just for questioning?"

"Questioning only," Raydor replied, "but, Detective Sanchez, could you ask Lieutenant Herrera to have a sniffing dog examine her car, when she is brought in for questioning?"

Sanchez was dialing his phone.

"Does Ms. de la Guerra have any record here, or in California?" Raydor asked Tao.

"I put in a request for that information," Tao said. "It should be three hours."

"I apologize for asking you to sleep here tonight," Raydor said, "but it looks like our sleep will be interrupted shortly anyway." She walked to her office door. "If any news happens, please wake me up immediately." She tapped at her phone. "It's 4:15 am now, I am setting my alarm for 7:15."

"I'll have some coffee delivered here at 7:20, with some pastries," Tao replied.

"Get some rest, everyone," Raydor said, "it's going to be a long day."


	12. Chapter 12

December 12th, 0645

"Lieutenant Provenza?"

Provenza's eyes snapped open. "If you keep waking me up like this, I'm going to think I'm married to you."

Romero smiled. "I rather doubt that you'd marry me, Lieutenant."

Provenza nodded. "I wouldn't want to, because having two officers in a relationship is not the best thing." He levered himself up. "Although, my being married to a non-officer never has worked well for me, either." He paused. "May I say something personal?"

"If you're going to say that I'm like the granddaughter that you never had," Romero smiled, "and I'm beautiful in that context, that, you can say."

Provenza snorted. "I'm not that old, Cadet! I'm only thirty-nine!"

"Yeah," Romero laughed, patting her belly, "and the 'Baywatch' people want me to star in the movie." She handed him a cup of coffee. "Yolanda is conscious, and Doctor Hall is giving her a once-over." She shook her head. "He says that we can only have five minutes to talk with her."

"I hope to God she can speak with us in English," Provenza groaned. "If she can't, Cadet, in those five minutes, we need to know if she saw the third gunman, and any description that she can give us."

Romero nodded. "Lieutenant, if she asks about her mother, what do I tell her?"

Provenza shuddered. "I don't know if you can tell her that her mother was in critical condition, and that you haven't heard anything more, without causing her more distress later, but this is something that you need to learn to do." He shook his head. "Sometimes, a police officer's best friend in questioning someone is an incomplete truth that, at one point, was completely true." He sipped coffee. "Right now, we need the answer to that question, before anything else."

He kissed Romero on her forehead. "And, Cadet, you're a niece to me, and if anyone tries to hurt you, I daresay that Detective Sanchez would be like the Dalai Lama, compared to me." He picked up his phone. "You will have something to eat after this, young lady, and that's an order."

"I'll try," Romero replied, walking out the door.

"How is she, Doctor?" Provenza asked Dr. Hall.

"She's woozy, and barely coherent," Hall replied, "she keeps asking about her mother." He shook his head. "If you can calm her down, you can have ten minutes."

Provenza walked into the room, followed by Romero and Hall.

"Good morning, Yolanda," Provenza began, "I'm Louie, a detective with the LAPD."

Yolanda smiled. "You were on 'Badge of Justice' once."

Provenza's jaw dropped. "Oh, my God! What did Mike get me into?"

Yolanda giggled. "You were so grumpy!"

Provenza smiled. "Well, Yolanda, I'm working on what happened to you and your mother." He gestured toward Romero. "This is my assistant, Cadet Romero." She smiled at Yolanda. Provenza continued, "The doctor told us to be very quick right now, so you can get better, so I do have one question for you."

Yolanda gazed expectantly at Provenza. "Okay."

"Do you remember seeing what happened when the police car came?" Provenza asked.

Yolanda's eyes lowered, began to tear up. "I…" She sobbed.

Romero held Yolanda's hand. "It's all right, Yolanda." There were tears in her eyes, too.

Yolanda squeezed Romero's hand, hard. "Mama…is she…where is she?"

Provenza held Yolanda's other hand, patting it. "Yolanda, your mother was very badly hurt, you saw that, didn't you?"

Yolanda nodded. "Then the police car turned the corner, and the bad men shot at them, too." She sniffled. "One of the policemen got out, and looked at me and my mother, then…" She gasped. "I'm not sure exactly what he did, but he threw something at them, then another thing, and smoke, lots of it, then he ran at the men, and hit their legs over and over, knocking them down."

Romero squeezed Yolanda's hand, and gently held a tissue to Yolanda's face. Yolanda blew her nose.

"Then, a shot, and the police officer fell down," Yolanda continued. "Then, a man walked toward the street, and shot both of the bad men, one shot for one, one for the other."

"Do you know how tall he was?" Provenza asked.

"I don't remember seeing anything to help me tell," Yolanda replied. "But, the top of his head appeared to be almost level with the top of the fence around the parking lot."

"That's enough for now," Provenza smiled. "I think you've helped us a lot."

"Please, say hi to Mike for me," Yolanda said. "And please, find out what happened to mama." She sniffled. "I know she was hurt very badly, and she needs a hug."

"I will," Provenza patted Yolanda's hand, and he and Romero left.

Romero turned back. "Yolanda, when you saw the person that shot the police officer and the two other people, where were you exactly?"

"I was in the back seat," Yolanda replied, 'on my knees, peeping over the bottom of the window."

"Were you looking up, or straight ahead?" Provenza watched Romero asking the questions.

"Straight ahead."

"One more thing," Romero asked, "how do you know if all of the persons were men, could any of them have been women?"

Yolanda began to cry. "I'm sorry…"

Provenza walked to Yolanda's side. "Don't be sorry, Yolanda." He glared at Romero, then turned back to Yolanda. "The people were all armored, so you couldn't tell whether they were men or women, could you?"

"The officer that attacked the two persons, and looked into mama's car," Yolanda replied, "he was a man, because he was the only one without a helmet, and he had a very light beard, as if he had not shaved for a couple of days."

"Thank you, Yolanda," Provenza ushered Romero out.

In the hall, Provenza asked Hall, "I didn't let her know what happened to her mother."

Hall nodded. "I agree that you shouldn't have." He gazed at his patient. "I have a social worker coming in a bit later, and we'll tell her."

"I think she knows her mother is dead," Romero said, "but hasn't quite processed it yet."

"Yeah," Hall replied, "I think you're right." He shook his head. "The next two days will tell us whether she will be able to do more than walk, if she will be able to do that. And even if she can, it's going to take a lot of therapy to get her to that point." Hall looked quizzically at Romero. "Your father…how are you holding up?"

"Later," Romero replied, "I'm going to need some therapy, some counseling, someone to talk to." She shook her head. "Right now, I'm running on adrenaline, and nerves, and it hasn't quite set in for me, either."

"Well, we'd better get back to Major Crimes," Provenza said. "Thanks, Doctor."

As Romero and Provenza rode down in the elevator, Provenza told Romero, "Nice catch."

"But you looked mad…"

"Yeah, I was not happy, because Yolanda felt like crying after you asked the question," Provenza smiled. "But, Captain Raydor would not have been happy if that question had not been asked." He took off his watch cap and pounded it. Replacing it on his head, he growled, "I'm upset because I should have asked that question."

As the elevator door opened, and they walked toward the door, he grinned, "But I am glad that you did."

December 12th, 0705

Raydor opened her office door, and saw Sanchez pacing, the worry clearly showing on his face.

"Julio, relax," Raydor whispered.

"Too late, Captain," Tao boomed, "we couldn't sleep well, either."

"Has Provenza called?" Sykes asked.

"Not yet," Raydor replied. "But, he will."

"Can you update all of us, Captain, on where we are now?" Flynn yawned.

"Detective Sanchez?" Raydor cued.

"It looks like the motive is MS 13 cutting in on Sinaloa's drug distribution network in southern California, at least," Sanchez said. "Tao, did the picture match up?"

Tao looked at his monitor. "Captain, that picture does match.

Sanchez continued, "Maria Camacho, the female adult victim, looks exactly like a Sinaloa coordinator, named Graciela dos Santos de la Guerra, driving a Honda Civic that looks very similar to the Civic at the scene." He looked at his phone. "No record of her having any children, though."

"And," Raydor added, "the body armor was stolen from material sent to the El Salvadoran Army by the School of the Americas." She turned to Tao. "Any results from the APB?"

"Not yet, Captain," Tao replied. "But every officer in southern California has the license plate and descriptions of car and woman."

Raydor checked her phone. "Did anyone receive an envelope from Chief Pope or Chief Taylor?"

"No one has come here since I closed my eyes," Sanchez said, "because I secured the area before sleeping."

"I'll have to call Chief Pope and see," Raydor mused.

"You don't have to," Taylor boomed, not happily. "Apparently, the DEA boss decided to not be cooperative, so DDA Hobbs arrested him." He grimaced. "I love to see the Feds get taken down a peg, especially when someone else is going to take the blame, but we're going to get caught in the backwash on this."

"I don't think so, Chief," Raydor responded from the whiteboard.

Taylor looked at the new information. "How in the hell did you find all that out?"

"Special Agent Howard didn't know as much as Deputy Director Malcolm," Raydor replied. "But what he did provide to me in confidence, we were able to confirm." Her phone rang. "Provenza?"

She listened for two minutes, nodding. "We'll see you in five minutes, then." She listened. "Yes, Lieutenant, there will be some breakfast for her." She hung up.

"Captain," Flynn spoke up. "77th Street Division found the car, nobody inside. They've broadcast a Code 5 on it."

Before Raydor could react to that, Sykes spoke. "Metro Division stakeout caught a man trying to enter 4656 Collis Avenue; they have him in custody, and are bringing him in."

Taylor spoke. "What now, Captain?"

"Right now, breakfast, then we hear what Lieutenant Provenza has to say," Raydor replied. "I do hope they're here soon."

"Breakfast!" Buzz opened the door for the cart. "Is that Racine kringle?"

"Not what I wanted first," Raydor sighed, daintily selecting a croissant, "but man does not live by work alone."


	13. Chapter 13

December 12th, 0730

"Where is Cadet Romero?" Raydor asked Provenza.

"I put her in the electronics room, so she could study," Provenza replied. "Wait a minute, didn't Chief Pope get her exams postponed?"

"He didn't say that they had," Raydor pondered, "and he said that he would call when he could confirm that." She looked at her watch. "What time do they start?"

"I believe 9:30," Flynn replied. "They've been at 9:30 since I was in the Academy."

"I will have to deal with that later," Raydor replied. "77th Street Division is sitting on the intended victim's car, code 5," she told Provenza, "and someone tried breaking into the Romero's residence, and Metro Division is bringing him in now."

"Mistaken identity?" Provenza grimaced.

"It gets worse," Sanchez replied. "MS 13 and Sinaloa."

"Ye gods," Provenza walked to his desk and collapsed into his chair. "Next, you'll be telling me that the DEA is taking all the evidence and the case over, so that they can ignore two LAPD officers' murders."

"I think," Flynn chuckled, "that the DEA Deputy Director is going to have to make bail first."

Provenza goggled.

"And, since he was arrested under the USA Patriot Act by DDA Hobbs personally," Tao was grinning, despite Taylor glaring at him, "that's going to require some major lifting from Washington for that to happen."

Provenza stood up, walked to the cart, and took a slice of kringle. "This is quite a mess, Captain," he shook his head, "but it's OUR mess, dammit!"

"Yeah," Taylor barked, "but how do we solve it without Federal cooperation?"

"First," Raydor spoke soothingly, "take something and eat, Chief." She had finished her croissant, and took a small slice of kringle. "Why did you say 'Racine', Buzz?"

"Because this was made in Racine, Wisconsin," Buzz replied. "They don't make anything like that here."

"Yes," Raydor sighed, sniffing the raspberry filling of her slice of kringle. "Next, we need to interrogate the person who tried to break into the Romero home. Flynn and Sykes, would you please do that?"

Sykes smiled. "How nice should we be?"

"I want a conviction at all costs, whether it be through a deal, or letting Hobbs go all nuclear at trial," Raydor replied.

"I'll try to be extra nice," Flynn said.

"Good," Raydor replied. "I want to see how quietly nasty Sykes can be." Raydor faced Sykes. "Consider this a mid-term examination."

Sykes gulped. "Yes, Captain."

Flynn patted Sykes' shoulder. "Don't worry," he said, "we got this."

Raydor turned to Taylor. "I don't want to send a team to cover that code 5," she said, "but 77th Street may need that team that's covering."

"I'll call SOB," Taylor replied. "I think there might be trouble there."

"I think," Raydor mused, "that trouble may have already occurred." She looked around. "Lieutenant Tao, could you please coordinate with SOB on the surveillance? We may need some quick forensic data from that car."

"Of course, Captain," Tao replied.

Raydor turned to Provenza. "What information did the young girl, Yolanda, have?"

Provenza shook his head ruefully. "First, she saw me on 'Badge of Justice'."

Tao laughed.

Provenza glared at Tao. "That actually was a good thing, because she tried answering my questions to the point, quickly, and as we had 5 minutes, that was necessary." He sipped coffee. "Yolanda will be a very good witness if we go to trial. She didn't see everything, but what she saw confirms what we got from the body cams and physical evidence, including the use of the triple chasers." He shook his head. "Mike, Cadet Romero asked Yolanda a question, and you might be able to get a height of the man that shot Romero."

Tao's eyes lit up. "What?"

"From her vantage point, eyes just above the bottom of the window frame," Provenza replied, "looking straight ahead, the top of the man's head was even with the top of the fence surrounding the Skills Center."

Tao was at his computer, looking at video stills, punching at a calculator. "That would appear to be between 6' 3" and 6' 5", but if he had the same boots as the others, subtract two inches for his real height." He frowned. "Call it 6' 3" for the APB?"

Raydor looked at Taylor, he nodded. "I agree, Lieutenant." She turned back to Provenza. "Were you able to get anything else?"

Provenza shook his head. "Dr. Hall wanted us to be only five minutes."

"From Romero's bodycam," Tao said, "we know that the man…"

"Not legally established," Provenza said. "Yolanda called them all men, but Romero asked a question, and Yolanda admitted that she only could tell one person's gender – Romero's – because he was the only one without a helmet and face shield."

"DDA Hobbs would say that," Tao replied, "and Cadet Romero was correct in asking that, but from the body cam, we know that person was not thin, nor fat – think linebacker sized, maybe 240 pounds." He grimaced. "I've never seen a 6' 3" woman with that build before."

"And no way to tell if the suspect was Caucasian, Asian, African-American, or anything else," Raydor frowned. "Is it worth it to get an APB out for him, or do a search for him in databases, given what little we actually know?"

"I can try," Buzz replied, "it'll take about 10 minutes to set up the query, and perhaps two hours to run California and Arizona."

"Good," Raydor told Buzz. "Go ahead." To Tao, "Meet SOB at…" She turned to Flynn. "Where's the code 5?"

"Crenshaw and West 74th," Flynn replied. "Probably meet at Crenshaw and Florence."

"SOB is sending a four man team," Taylor said. "They'll be here in three minutes." He looked at Tao. "You'll be in charge." He looked into Tao's eyes. "Consider this a command evaluation, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir," Tao replied, checking his briefcase.

Flynn's phone rang. He talked for a moment. "Captain, Metro Division is here with the suspect from Collis Avenue."

"Interview 1," Raydor replied. Flynn completed the call.

"Buzz, Provenza, Sanchez, Chief, with me," Raydor followed Flynn and Sykes out the door.

Raydor opened the door of the electronics room, took two steps in, and stopped dead in her tracks. She saw Romero standing, shuddering, staring at nothing toward the wall, so that her back was to the door. A man's pleasant voice, accompanied by strings and an electric guitar, sounded from a radio:

" _…here we are, as in olden days, happy golden days, of yore…faithful friends, who are dear to us, gather near to us, once more…"_

"Excuse me, Captain," Provenza stepped past Raydor, stepped to the radio, and turned it off.

Romero turned around. Tears streamed down her cheeks as Raydor looked at her.

"Cadet Romero…" Raydor began, but she was interrupted.

"Ignacia," Buzz held her right hand in his, "let's get some coffee." Turning to Raydor, he said, "We'll be back in thirty minutes, and all recording is activated for Interview One." He led Romero out.

"What in the hell…" Taylor said.

"I think," Raydor replied, "that song triggered some memories of her father." She shook her head. "The conflict between happy memories, and the fact that there will be no more of them, and the cause of this…" She glared at Taylor. "She should not be taking any final examinations today." She lowered her voice. "Why Chief Pope did not realize that, I do not know."

"Captain," Provenza said, "I have to take this call outside." He stepped out.

"Who was singing that?" Taylor said.

"David Seville," Sanchez replied softly. "Or, his real name, Ross Bagdasarian."

"The Chipmunks?" Taylor was incredulous.

"Before he made his small fortune speeding up his voice," Raydor replied, "he actually was a very nice singer, but the Chipmunks was his big break."

"I remember singing that with her father on her birthday a few times when she was younger," Sanchez sighed. "He didn't have as bad of a voice as he said he did."

"Can anyone run this board with Buzz gone?" Taylor snapped.

"Buzz already started the recording," Sanchez replied, "and I can stop the recording if we need to." He sat at Buzz's normal place. "Okay, the suspect is being escorted in."

"I think this is too much of a good thing," Raydor sighed. "But, we'll see."


	14. Chapter 14

December 12th, 0750

Flynn gazed down at the suspect seated before him at the table. Glancing at the paper handed to him by the Metro Division team, he turned to Sykes, "Male Caucasian, height 5' 4", weight definitely not proportional…he's about 190, Detective Sykes?"

Sykes snorted, "If he's 190. I'm Shakira. Maybe 220, with a cholesterol problem."

"Now hold on!" the suspect exploded. "I'm only 146 pounds!"

"Don't lie to us, buddy," Flynn replied. "You were burglarizing that place on Collis Avenue, and you didn't have any ID, and you gave an obvious false name to the officers. What are you hiding?"

The suspect didn't say anything.

"That's OK," Sykes sighed. "Conspiracy after the fact in a multiple homicide of two LAPD officers, isn't that homicide with special circumstances?" She smiled. "I've always wanted to witness an execution at Q, and under California law, I will get to see you die in the gas chamber."

The suspect gasped. "They have lethal injection in California, don't they?"

"Yeah, pal, they do," Flynn smiled, "except in murders of police officers, then they have the gas chamber." He leaned into the suspect's face. "For all I know, the detective here thinks you're a white supremacist, and is going to become very excited watching you die. To tell the truth, I can't blame her." Flynn's nose nearly touched the suspect's. "Come to think of it, I might get excited thinking that she's going to get excited to watch you choke and die."

Flynn backed off. "But, if you want to make the detective here very unfulfilled, and legally, you'd better start answering our questions, pal."

Sykes stepped up. "It won't take long for your fingerprints to get through the FBI database, and then, if you want to go to Camp X-Ray, since the DEA's rooting around this case too…"

"All right!" the man yelled. "I don't know anything about DEA or FBI or cops being murdered."

"Let's start with something simple," Sykes' nose almost touched the suspect's, and the quiet menace in her voice made Flynn jerk back. "Like, your name."

"Belmont," the man replied, "Artie Belmont."

"Address?" Sykes snapped.

"West 59th Place near Fig," Belmont answered. "601."

Sanchez was tapping on a keyboard, whistled. "Look at this." Raydor and Taylor looked at the screen.

"You were right, Sharon," Taylor said. "Nothing but 459 PC, five arrests over 10 years. And he just got out of Q a month ago."

"Call San Quentin, Sanchez," Raydor said. "I want to make sure he didn't have any association with any of the gangs there." She turned to Taylor. "I doubt that he did, but we have to check."

"How many convictions did he get?" Taylor asked Sanchez.

"He was convicted twice, but 459 PC isn't eligible for a third strike," Sanchez replied, phone to his ear. "Yes, Warden?"

"Especially as he didn't get inside a locked door," Raydor mused, " so the DA would only be able to charge 602 PC, a misdemeanor, and he'd get six months."

Sanchez hung up his phone. "No gangs, he was not exactly a model prisoner, but he didn't get into any trouble, other than going too slow sometimes on work details, and getting a couple weeks in the hole."

Raydor clicked the microphone button. "Andy, he's not ours. Send him downstairs for booking on 602 PC, and send him to County." She clicked off.

"It's over?" Buzz sounded disappointed.

"What'd I miss?" Provenza also sounded unhappy.

"Just a 459 PC crook caught on a 602 PC," Taylor replied, "nothing to do with this case at all." He walked to the door. "Captain, you had better hope that Tao gets something, or that the Feds take this off our hands, because it won't look good for me if this gets in the cold case file." He strode out.

"Ye gods," Provenza slumped into a chair. "What he means is, 'you'll wish you had stayed in FID'."

"Yes," Raydor sighed. "But, we have to take our time, and make sure of everything." She turned to Buzz. "How is Cadet Romero?"

"A little better," Buzz replied. "She's in the breakroom, studying, or trying to."

"What did you say?" Raydor asked.

She jerked back from the look on Buzz's face. "I can't discuss that with you, Captain."

Raydor took a deep breath and sighed.

"Would you like to explain to me, Captain, why Human Resources called me and chewed me out?" Chief Pope stood in the door, arms crossed, very unhappy.

Raydor looked up from her chair. "I have no idea, Chief, what you are talking about."

"Don't lie to me, Sharon…" Pope strode to face Raydor.

"I called Human Resources, Chief Pope." Commander Reed stepped into the electronics room. "I have not officially released FID's control of this investigation, and I called Lieutenant Provenza for a status update, and he told me that Cadet Romero had not had her examinations postponed." He walked to face Pope, his voice cold and calm. "The LAPD policy on bereavement leave is clear, and the personnel status of cadets in the Academy is very clear – they are covered under the bereavement leave policy, from the moment that the need for the bereavement is known to the LAPD ."

Reed took a breath. "And I will remind you, Chief Pope, that Captain Raydor is keeping her under Major Crimes' care under my authority, as the designated incident commander."

Raydor looked up. "I will accept your forthcoming apology, Chief."

Pope shook his head. "No apology will be forthcoming, Captain. You are not Brenda…"

"And you, sir, are no William Parker," Provenza snarled. "If you think that Captain Raydor does anything except follow the rules, in ways that you always dreamed Chief Johnson would have done once in her life, you're a fool." He took off his watch cap and wrung it in his hands. "I know that the LAPD screwed up royally, and you and Chief Johnson, among others, were needed to help clean things up so that the LAPD could once more be the best police force in the world, as it used to be."

Provenza pounded his cap, and slapped it onto his head. "But, Chief, when they brought you in to the LAPD, the one thing that you should have learned from the beginning is that a lot of the mistakes and screw-ups, and yes, violations of the law, were from this principle: we take care of our own." He shook his head. "And the biggest part of that is when an officer is injured or killed, and the LAPD takes care of the officer's home family and his or her professional one."

Reed's voice was still cold and calm. "I've seen two officers serving with me die in the line of duty, and two die in service, but not in the line of duty. I'm not going to give you an Academy lecture, but you must understand, Chief, that sometimes, command must make decisions that are not permissible in the letter of the regulations, but are morally justifiable and not statutorily illegal." He shook his head. "And the only persons in the department that can make an exception in the case of Cadet Romero is you and the Chair of the Police Commission."

Provenza looked at the clock. "Eight-thirty - too late!" He pointed a finger at Pope. "Cadet Romero must be at the Academy in 45 minutes, to check in for her examinations." He turned to Raydor. "Permission to escort Cadet Romero?"

Raydor raised a brow. "Don't be too tough quizzing her on the way, Lieutenant."

Provenza smiled, and walked out.

"I do believe, Commander, that you have been insubordinate," Pope intoned icily.

Reed counted ten in his head. "First, Chief Pope, there is no insubordination here, as the Police Commission has made clear, if there is a violation of Human Resources regulations that can be resolved without legal action by informing Human Resources, all LAPD officers are required to notify Human Relations immediately."

"Even when it is impossible to resolve the issue, we are still required to immediately notify Human Resources, so that they can mitigate the liability that the LAPD would incur," Raydor added.

"And you can't do anything to me, Chief," Reed slightly thawed. "Even in the very unlikely event that I am found to be insubordinate, and am forced to retire, that is the only action that the Police Commission could take against me. And since I cannot increase my pension by working the last thirteen months I have planned, it won't harm me in that way either." He smiled. "And, I have 122 accrued days available, which will be paid to me upon retirement, on the official payroll schedule, before my retirement benefits begin to be disbursed."

"And I would remind you, Chief," Raydor concluded, "that when an officer with the experience and record of Commander Reed is dismissed, the media will want to know why, and when they find out what happened, you will not enjoy the news coverage." She shook her head. "Chief Taylor couldn't make you look good in that event, no matter what he did."

"I hate to say this, Chief," Taylor walked in, "but there's nothing that you can do to stop HR from officially reporting to the Police Commission." He sighed. "I have just been officially reprimanded by the Police Commission for failing to report the bereavement status of Cadet Romero to Human Resources." He sighed. "Although cadets are not under my reporting authority, nor Captain Raydor's, nor Commander Reed's, the regulations are quite clear that any officer in command authority that is in possession of such knowledge must report to Human Resources immediately, regardless of whether the officer in need of bereavement resources has followed the request procedure."

"Perhaps," Raydor spoke, "you could review the bereavement leave policies for Academy cadets, so that changes could be made to deal with such circumstances."

"Circumstances that are not enumerated in the policies," Pope sighed, "and currently require my personal intervention to resolve, and cannot be seen to be fairly resolved, regardless of what I did." He turned to Raydor. "I am sincerely sorry, Captain Raydor, for my conduct here this morning."

Raydor nodded. "Chief Taylor would, no doubt, be able to spin that in a very positive light."

"I've had to do notifications for two of my colleagues who died in the line of duty," Taylor was almost crying, "and even one officer dying, for any reason, in the line of duty, is too many." He dabbed at his eye with his handkerchief. "But, I've never heard of a situation where the child of an LAPD officer who was killed in the line of duty was a cadet at the time."

Reed shook his head. "I just asked Personnel that question, and they said that has never occurred before in the entire history of the Department."

Pope sighed. "There is no positive light that can be spun from the situation, or from my carelessness in handling this unique situation. But, we can move forward, we will make sure that this situation can be handled with a standard procedure in the future, and we…no, you ARE taking care of the daughter of a LAPD officer who died, while living up to the standards expected to protect and to serve." He walked out.

"I expect that I will receive a reprimand from the Commission as well," Raydor stated matter of factly.

"No, Captain," Reed replied, "you were not the incident commander, and you did personally notify the incident commander, your immediate supervisor, and the Chief of Police." He shook his head. "Right now, Captain, don't worry about anything except solving this case, and protecting Cadet Romero."

"And the best way to protect her is to solve the case," Taylor added. "Captain, I also owe you an apology for what I said earlier. That was unacceptable for me to do, and I am sorry." He turned to Raydor. "If you need any other resources, let me know immediately."

"Thank you, Chief Taylor," Raydor replied. "As soon as I have some information, I will let you know at once. And do note that Pacific Division's Lieutenant Stoner and his team have been extraordinarily helpful to us, often anticipating what we needed, yet doing so without stepping on our prerogatives and responsibilities."

"That's something Brenda would not have been likely to do," Taylor grinned, "commending another division in that manner." He walked out.

Raydor looked at her watch. "Eight-forty." She stepped to the door. "So many questions, but the most important one right now is this – what is going on at that code 5?"

"You can't call Tao right now and ask," Sanchez reminded Raydor.

"I think," Raydor replied, "we may have to tell Lieutenant Tao to call for an OPG tow truck to take the vehicle to us for scientific evaluation, if there's any legal traffic regulatory reason to do so, immediately."

"What about Ms. de la Guerra?" Sanchez asked.

"I think," Raydor sighed, "that there's every possibility that she is already dead. And if that is the case, we need to find her murderer as well."

"And that murderer may be a different person than the one who murdered Romero, Stromwahl, and Camacho," Reed said.

"And possibly a different organization," Sanchez sighed.

Raydor was dialing her phone as she walked back to Major Crimes.


	15. Chapter 15

December 12th – 0900

"In my office, Cadet Romero," a voice boomed from behind the counter as Romero and Provenza walked into the Police Academy.

"Hey, Mac," Provenza growled, as they followed the man whose voice that they had just heard, "lighten up, will ya?"

The man was over seventy, but his ramrod straight walk, his greying but perfectly crewcut hair, and the clarity and volume of his Scots voice made it clear that he'd been around the Department for quite a long time. He led them into an office door marked, "Training Coordinator MacDonald."

"Please sit down, Cadet Romero," MacDonald said, indicating the chairs in front of his desk, rummaging through the refrigerator for some bottled water, offering one to Romero, who accepted, and to Provenza, who also accepted. MacDonald sat down, and opened a manila folder on his desk.

"First, Ignacia," MacDonald began, "I am very sorry for your loss. I am certain that you have already been told this by Captain Raydor, but, on behalf of the Los Angeles Police Department, I officially offer you my condolences." He glanced at the folder, and put it onto his desk. "I received a call from Captain Raydor last night, and I am sorry to say that only the Police Commission or the Chief of Police can make an exception to the Police Academy Regulations, and postpone your examinations today."

"Thank you, sir," Romero replied.

"How in the world can you expect Cadet Romero here to properly take her examinations this morning?" Provenza was trying very hard not to explode. "I mean, she's supposed to be on bereavement leave right now!"

"I can't," MacDonald very calmly replied, "but, Lieutenant Provenza, you will notice that I said that the Chief or the Commission could not make an exception to the regulations." He smiled like a sergeant would when he gets to show that they know more than the chief. "But, the regulations do permit me some leeway in how the final examinations in such cases may be conducted." He turned to Romero. "Attention!"

Provenza was shocked at how quickly Romero stood at attention.

"Cadet Romero," MacDonald continued, "based on your academic and training records, you will take a modified examination, right now." He glanced at Provenza, then turned back to Romero. "Cadet Romero, I have received a report on the interview that Lieutenant Provenza and you conducted with a witness in the death of your father. Is there anything that you would have done differently?"

"Yes, sir," Romero replied calmly, "I should have asked the witness the final questions sooner, and I should have tried to do so in a way that did not distress her so much."

MacDonald stood up, and walked to face Romero. "The second part of your answer, Cadet, is something that may never be possible. The first part was absolutely correct. And as for how to avoid distressing a witness in a situation like that, there's nothing in the training of any police department anywhere in the world that can cover that. You have to learn from experience."

MacDonald smiled. "Based on your academic and training record, and the results of this oral examination, I find that there is only one remaining task for you to complete your examinations, Cadet." He walked to a cabinet, and took something from it, and gave it to Romero. "Your weapon belt, Cadet." While she put the belt on, he walked back to the cabinet, and returned. "You need to qualify on the firing range, Cadet, four clips, four different targets." He handed a pistol to her, butt first. "This is your father's service weapon, a Glock .40 caliber, suitable for use by any LAPD patrol officer."

Romero took a deep breath. She examined the weapon, noting that there was a clip in the weapon. "I presume that it is unloaded?"

"The report states that it is, Cadet," MacDonald answered.

Romero removed the clip from the Glock, checked that the safety was on, and placed the Glock into her holster. "I'll check it at the firing range, sir."

"Why not check it now, Cadet?" MacDonald asked. "You're a trained officer, you should know what you're doing."

"To reduce the possibility of an accident causing injury or death to another person, sir," Romero said. "I am firing this test at the range, and it makes no sense to check the weapon here."

Provenza grinned. "How many cadets have checked the weapon here, Mac?"

"Everyone except Romero here," MacDonald grinned. "Mind you, checking in my office is within Regulations, but I do agree with her, the range is the safest place to check." He turned to Romero. "Did your father ever show you how to maintain this weapon?"

"He had me video-record him field-stripping and reassembling it once," Romero replied, "just in case it was necessary, but for anything other than basic cleaning, he took his weapon to Firearms Training Section." She smiled. "He had me field strip it once too, just to make sure that I wasn't overconfident about doing so, and to reinforce his point to trust FTS."

"We don't teach that level of firearm maintenance to officers at the Academy," MacDonald said, "but it's nice that your father took the time with you on this." He gestured to Romero. "It's not Regulations, but, ladies first."

December 12th, 0920

"You have three minutes to complete this test, Cadet," MacDonald barked. "You will be judged on accuracy, safety, and compliance with the instructions given."

"Instructions, sir?" Romero replied firmly. " _Damn!_ ", Provenza said to himself, " _she's going to be a sergeant in three years!_ "

"Each target will have a different aspect," MacDonald replied. "You will fire one clip at each target, move to the next target lane, reload, and repeat until all four targets are completed. Two targets will be worth 90 points each, the other two will be worth 180 points each. Safety compliance will be worth 60 points. You will receive penalty points for every second above the three minutes allowance. You must score 540 points to pass the examination."

"Scoring is standard?" Romero queried.

"Yes, Cadet," MacDonald replied, "a kill shot on the target is worth 10 points and 20 points, respectively."

"May I check my weapon, sir?" Romero asked.

"Yes, Cadet, you may."

Romero called out, "Clear range." The range officer replied on the loudspeaker, "Range clear, proceed." Romero then executed a perfect two-handed press check, pointing the pistol downrange and held the slide in perfect position. "Clear." MacDonald looked down at the pistol, nodded.

"Fifteen round magazines, sir?"

"Correct, Cadet."

Romero walked to the counter, and loaded each magazine with standard live-fire S&W .40 caliber rounds, then placed each magazine in the appropriate spot on her holster belt. She stepped to the first target lane line. "Proceed, sir?"

"Proceed, Cadet," MacDonald replied, "your time starts from the first target reveal. Load your weapon when ready."

MacDonald and Provenza stepped back into the control booth with the range officer. They watched Romero place the ear protection headset on her head, properly slide the first magazine into her pistol, then take firing position.

The first target opened…

Exactly three minutes later, Romero fired her last round at her last target.

"Please report to the control booth, Cadet Romero," the range officer's voice crackled through the loudspeaker, as she removed her headset. Romero repeated the press check, said, "Clear," then holstered her weapon and walked to the control booth.

MacDonald was solemn. "Your weapon, Cadet." He held his hand out. Romero handed her weapon, butt first, to MacDonald. He press-checked the weapon. "Clear."

The range officer walked to MacDonald. "The score sheet, sir."

MacDonald glanced at the score sheet, and his eyes goggled.

"Look at this," MacDonald told Provenza. Provenza looked, and his eyes goggled.

"Cadet Romero," MacDonald said, "you achieved, out of a possible total of 600 points, a perfect score."

Romero nodded.

"You should be jumping for joy or smiling or something," Provenza growled. "Hell, when I qualified at the Academy, I only scored 590."

"I'm expected to do as well as possible, Lieutenant, sir," Romero smiled. "That's my duty."

"Yeah," MacDonald chuckled, "like father, like daughter." He turned to Provenza. "Ted Romero also qualified with a perfect score when he was at the Academy." He turned back to Romero. "The grip works perfectly for you, Cadet? I'm a bit surprised, as this was your father's."

"My hands, fortunately, are the same size," Romero smiled.

"Look at the patterns," MacDonald exclaimed. "One of the tightest patterns I've ever seen."

"Video will be ready in a moment," the range officer said.

"Cadet Romero," MacDonald said, "and, for only a little while longer, Cadet Romero, Dorothy has the bereavement information to go over with you, in my office."

"Yes, sir," Romero saluted, and walked out.

"She could have waited," Provenza told MacDonald.

"No, she needed to go," the range officer said. "I noticed something, and I'd like to show you in the video." He pressed the play button, and Romero's test was played back.

"Yeah," MacDonald said, "I see what you mean."

"What was wrong with that?" Provenza asked peevishly.

"Notice, with each target, she fired one round, waited a moment, then fired the remaining rounds in rhythm," the range officer said. "I've never seen that before."

"Is that a problem?" Provenza asked.

"Considering she has a semiautomatic weapon," MacDonald said, "I don't know why she paused after the first round, then completed the target, each time."

"Rewind that," Provenza growled, "and play it back in slow motion."

The range officer did so, after the first round of the fourth target had been fired, Provenza said, "Pause that!" He turned to the range officer. "Can you zoom in to the target?"

The range officer did. "There's your answer, Mac."

MacDonald whistled. "Why, I'll be!"

"What?" the range officer asked.

"You need to remember that old school officers like Provenza, her father, and me, used the S&W K-38 revolvers," MacDonald was in lecture mode. "Back then, there was much more emphasis on making sure that the first shot counted than there is now. And, making sure that the range was clear before firing was something that Chiefs Parker and Thad Brown had emphasized heavily since the late 40's."

"And her father had taught her how to shoot," Provenza's voice was awestruck.

"So, first shot, make it count, be safe, like father, like daughter," MacDonald was as close to awestruck as he ever would get. "And notice, the first shot on each target was the best shot."

"So," the range officer said, "with less emphasis on clear range nowadays, of course cadets today would learn that volume was more important than accuracy."

"Maybe that needs to be changed back a bit more like how it used to be," Provenza growled, "so that FID doesn't have to grill officers more than they have to."

"Graduation is Sunday," MacDonald said. "Any idea when her father's funeral will be?"

"Today's Thursday," Provenza replied, "if you want a guess, it had better not be til Monday."

"Yeah," MacDonald agreed. "Oh, don't tell Romero, but she may not be an honor graduate."

"Oh," Provenza said, "the cost of her shortened exam allowing her to graduate?"

"Partly," MacDonald said. "What happens, given the grades before today, six students are in contention for the top three numbers."

"And, let me guess," Provenza sighed, "despite Romero's perfect performance today, if the other five do perfect in their full examinations, they will be graded higher?"

"The worst she can number is sixth," MacDonald replied. "But, for other students to do better than her, three students must get perfect scores in all three phases of the examinations, and two must average 95 percent."

"And, if she had taken the full examinations," Provenza shook his head, "she might have dropped lower." He sighed. "When will Dorothy be done with Romero?"

"Knowing Dorothy," MacDonald replied, "she probably is having some coffee with her now." They walked back to MacDonald's office.


	16. Chapter 16

12 December – 0945

Raydor looked out the window of her office, cup of coffee in hand, frowning.

"Captain?" She turned toward the door – it was Flynn. "Tao called OPG, and they're going to have it towed to a nearby garage. Sanchez asked his contact in Gangs to send the drug dog there, and I called SID to send a fingerprint person over."

"Good," Raydor sighed. "Please close the door and sit down." Flynn did so.

"I have a feeling that I am missing something, Andy, that I shouldn't," Raydor looked at the murder board through her window. "Am I?"

Flynn pursed his lips. "Why were Romero and Stromwahl in that neighborhood?"

"Yes," Raydor closed her eyes. "Cadet Romero said that she didn't know, and I believe her. And nobody else that we know of would know." Her eyes snapped open, and she arose from her chair and took two steps into the squad room.

"Detective Sanchez, please come here," she said. Sanchez walked into Raydor's office, and she shut the door behind them. Flynn had a look of curiosity on his face, but said nothing.

"Julio, why were you in that neighborhood yesterday?" Raydor quietly asked.

"I was going to a _panaderia_ to order a cake for Ignacia's graduation," Sanchez replied.

"Which one?" Raydor's eyes lit up, as did Flynn's.

"Panaderia Colorado, on Rose and Hampton," Sanchez snapped his fingers. "About six blocks from the Skills Center."

"Was that the bakery where Maria worked?" Raydor was icily calm.

"Yes, it was," Sanchez replied.

"Why that panaderia?" Flynn chimed in.

"I remember being at Pacific Division a couple of months ago, when Lieutenant Stoner brought in some pastries, and he offered me one, and I asked him where he had gotten them." Sanchez was upset. "I had noted the bakery name in my reports, but I didn't think it was important enough to mention it to you orally."

Raydor patted Sanchez' shoulder. "It may not be important at all," she intoned, "but, it may be very important, given what has happened in this case so far." She picked up her phone, only to hear it ring. She connected. "Lieutenant Tao?"

"Not good, Captain," Tao boomed. "We noticed blood dripping from the trunk when the tow truck hooked up and lifted the car, so we erected a tent, and are waiting on the drug dog and SID to arrive."

"Do any of the SOB men have video cameras with them?"

"Yes, two do."

"Do not wait, proceed carefully, document everything, and open the trunk now."

"OK, Captain." A clunk, as if Tao had put his phone on speaker, and set it on something. A moment, another. "I think we have a problem, Captain."

"What?" Raydor nervously asked.

"There's a body that has been pretty well dismembered, and it's not Graciela de los Santos," Tao calmly spoke. "It appears that there is some body armor in the trunk with the victim."

"Would it be reasonable for us to presume that the victim might be our sniper shooter at the Skills Center?"

"That's as good of a hypothesis as any," Tao replied. "Terrence is en route."

"Right now, concentrate on that vehicle," Raydor thought for a moment. "I will call Metro Division to see if we can get some teams to you for canvassing the neighborhood."

"Affirmative, Captain," Tao hung up.

Flynn hung up his phone. "Metro is sending four teams out there for canvassing."

"Thank you," Raydor dialed her phone. "Lieutenant Provenza?"

"Yes, Captain?" Provenza was cheerful.

"Ask Cadet Romero if she has ever heard of Panaderia Colorado."

Provenza's cheer disappeared. "No, Captain, she hasn't, but Lieutenant Stoner has…oh, my God!"

"Are you still at the Academy?"

"Just pulling out of the parking lot."

"Go back, and wait for Air 10," Raydor had a note of worry in her voice. "Also, get tactical armor for yourself and Cadet Romero, and make certain that both of you are fully equipped and armed." She sighed. "When you get to Reagan/UCLA, relieve Lieutenant Stoner, and send him to Panaderia Colorado on Air 10 at once."

"Captain," Flynn raised his hand, "It would be better for Air 10 to land at the Skills Center parking lot, there's no closer spot to the panaderia than that."

"Air 10 is en route to the Academy," Sanchez added. "ETA, six minutes."

"Provenza," Raydor corrected herself, "send Stoner to the Skills Center parking lot. And Air 10's ETA is six minutes."

"Affirmative, Captain," Provenza replied.

"Let me speak to Cadet Romero, on speaker," Raydor said. A moment. "Cadet Romero?"

"Yes, Captain?" Romero was quiet, as if she sensed something was going on.

"Cadet, you will receive instructions from Lieutenant Provenza on what is expected of you in the next few hours," Raydor intoned. "However, I want you to be careful, and not place yourself in a situation where you are in danger of great physical harm to yourself, unless there is no alternative." She sighed. "Please repeat what I just said."

"Be careful, and do not put myself in danger of great physical harm, unless there is no other alternative," Romero replied, "while obeying Lieutenant Provenza's instructions, and all applicable regulations."

"Cadet," Raydor snapped, "I do not want you to worry about regulations. Lieutenant Provenza will be responsible for ensuring that his instructions comply with Regulations, and he and I will take the responsibility for any violation of Regulations that result from your obeying his orders. Is that clear, Cadet Romero?"

"Yes, Captain," Romero replied louder than normal.

"Is Cadet Romero OK?" Raydor asked Provenza.

"I think she is, Captain," Provenza replied, "you need to remember that this is one hell of a situation for a cadet to start a career with."

"I know, Lieutenant," Raydor replied, "which is why I expect you to make sure she helps you as much as possible, while minimizing any risk to her to the smallest amount possible."

"She's ready, and so am I, Captain," Provenza said.

"Oh, Lieutenant, how did her modified examinations go?"

"MacDonald asked a tough question, which she did very well in replying to, and she got a 600 on the firing range."

"Very good, Cadet," Raydor said, "but…"

"I will be very careful, Captain," Romero replied. "Two LAPD officers being killed on this case is two too many."

"Yes, it is too many," Raydor said. "Get going." She hung up.

"I called Pacific Division," Flynn said. "They're going to clear the Skills Center parking lot immediately."

"I bet LAUSD won't like that," Sanchez replied. "They also won't like the contempt of court warrant that the superintendent has just been served with, either."

"Captain Raydor?" Special Agent Howard walked in the door. "I can get an FBI helicopter here in three minutes, if that will help."

"Yes, it would," Raydor purred. "Since you are acting in a collaborative manner, I trust you will be coming with us?"

"Of course, Captain," Howard patted his stomach, the thud of body armor being clearly audible.

"Pacific Division will have three squads at the Skills Center standing by to get us to the panaderia," Flynn said.

"OK, everybody, body armor on, sidearms for everybody except Sanchez and Sykes, I want them to have sawed-off shotguns as well," Raydor spoke loudly as she walked into the squad room. "We need to be on the helipad in five minutes."

"Six minutes, Captain," Howard corrected her.

"Good luck, Captain," Taylor walked into the squad room. "If you need anything else, say so at once – SOB is standing by."

"I will do so, Chief," Raydor replied.

"And I know you've already said this, Captain," Taylor concluded, "but, don't any of you be heroes. We have a job to do, and I do not want to have any more notifications of next of kin."

"Yes, Chief," everybody replied, as they walked toward the elevators.


	17. Chapter 17

December 12th, 10:02 am

Sykes' and Raydor's phones sounded simultaneously. Sykes responded first, "Ballistics?" She listened intently for a moment.

"Yes, Lieutenant Tao?" Raydor's intensity of listening exceeded Sykes'. Both hung up simultaneously.

"Detective Sykes?" Raydor wanted to speak first, but, like a good commander, she allowed her subordinate to speak first.

"Ballistics reports that the rifle used to kill Detective Romero and the two Does was very likely a Dragunov sniper rifle," Sykes took a deep breath. "It's more accurate than an AK-47, and in the hands of a marksman, it would be a very easy shot to kill Romero."

Raydor nodded. "Lieutenant Tao found the rifle, and it is a Dragunov." She frowned. "He also obtained three clear fingerprints from the face shield of the helmet and has sent them to CIIS."

"Captain Raydor," Howard spoke up. "Given the circumstances, it appears that the DEA has no jurisdiction in this case any longer, as the nexus of their investigation here no longer exists." He took a deep breath. "Could you please ask Lieutenant Tao to send those fingerprints to the FBI?"

Raydor nodded. "Ms. de los Santos is certainly in the FBI database, so you'll likely find out faster than we will." She peered into Howard's eyes. "Does the FBI have any jurisdiction in this case, if the only person of interest is Ms. de los Santos?"

Howard nodded. "Only for information to help us in other cases. But given the circumstances, I still have legal authority to assist LAPD in the apprehension of the suspect, with the understanding that, unless she commits, or has committed, a serious offense outside of California for which the FBI has jurisdiction, she will not be taken into Federal custody."

Raydor nodded. "Lieutenant Flynn, Detective Sykes, Special Agent Howard, Buzz, please be careful."

"You're not going?" Flynn was incredulous.

"I have to interrogate a recalcitrant deputy DEA director, and I will need Detective Sanchez' assistance," Raydor replied. "Lieutenant Stoner and a few men from Pacific Division will be there shortly as well."

Flynn shook his head. "Okay," and stepped into the elevator with Sykes, Howard, and Buzz. The door closed.

"Julio, with me," Raydor was very quiet.

Sanchez shuddered.

"What is wrong, Detective Sanchez?"

"Captain," Sanchez was almost crying, "I don't think that you understand what the phrase "with me" means to those of us here who have ever worked with Chief Johnson." He took a deep breath. "She only said this to one of her subordinates, and only when she was very upset with them." Another deep breath. "And I know one reason why you kept me here with you, besides the official reason that you gave to Lieutenant Flynn."

"Yes," Raydor nodded, "I am worried about your judgment being affected by possible mourning for your dear friend, Detective Ted Romero." Shaking her head, she added, "Or, I was worried. I am still worried about you, because you made an error in not specifically stating the name of the panaderia, but not about your judgment." She motioned Sanchez into her office and closed the door behind them.

"I am also worried that you're too close to Cadet Romero," Raydor's concern was very visible. "Given your record, I think, if something happened out there, and you were with her, and you thought that she was in danger, that your anger would override your otherwise intelligent judgment, and I might lose both her, and you."

Sanchez nodded. "I can't deny that possibility, Captain." Tears welled in his eyes. "But, you're not letting me do what I am skilled at by keeping me here."

Raydor shook her head and grasped Sanchez' right hand in hers. "You have more skills than the strictly tactical, in-the-field ones that you have learned so well." She took his handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed the tears from his eyes. "You have intelligence and experience in the world of gangs and narcotics as well, and you're angry that you can't be in the field at this moment. But I need the controlled, but angry, Detective Sanchez at this moment, because I am angry at a certain deputy DEA director, and I am still angry at the President and the Attorney General of the United States, and I am angry that I cannot show my anger at this moment, because it would hurt the resolution of this case."

Sanchez smiled. "When will he be here?"

"He won't," Raydor replied. "We will have to interrogate him in Doctor Morales' office, with DDA Hobbs present." She neatly folded Sanchez' handkerchief and put it back into his pocket. "Doctor Morales is pressing charges against Mr. Malcolm and his agents, so even if Hobbs wants to release him and them, she won't be able to do so, even with the United States Government's insistence, without his consent."

"This time, Captain," Sanchez replied, "bring your sidearm."

Raydor nodded. "Is a Glock .45 less accurate than a .40?"

Sanchez furrowed his brow. "If you can handle the greater recoil, there's no difference in accuracy between the .45 and .40." He smiled. "And as a captain, you're authorized to receive a .45 once in your career without having to pay for it."

" _Really_?" Raydor opened her desk drawer and tossed something at Sanchez' face.

Sanchez laughed as the beanbag hit his forehead. Raydor's face went from a glower to a glowing smile in a split second. "Strike the "if". He tossed the beanbag onto Raydor's desk.

December 12th, 10:20 am

"Deputy Director Malcolm," DDA Hobbs began, "this is your only opportunity for you to avoid arraignment for violation of the USA Patriot Act for yourself and your two agents that committed two additional felonies."

Malcolm glowered back. "You won't get me into court. The US Attorney General will quash your motion."

"Actually, Deputy Director Malcolm," Raydor very quietly replied, "under the SoCal Regional Security Interagency Agreement of March 24th, 2008, not even the President of the United States can stop your arraignment and trial, especially considering the two additional felonies that your agents committed against the County of Los Angeles Department of Medical Examiner-Coroner and Dr. Sam Kim that cannot be obviated by the assertion of Federal supremacy."

Sanchez spoke, with honey in his voice instead of hot sauce. "And really, Deputy Director, all we want is to clear the case of the willful murders of six people, not to interfere in the mission of the Drug Enforcement Administration." He stood up, placed his hands on the table, and leaned toward Malcolm, his voice quieter. "But, two LAPD officers murdered, an innocent woman murdered, her daughter orphaned and in critical condition in the hospital? You must provide answers to our questions in private, here, now, or else you will provide the answers in open court while facing the probability of…how many years, Captain Raydor?"

"With the special circumstances of the two additional felonies committed by Deputy Director Malcolm's agents," Raydor looked at Hobbs, "I believe a mandatory life sentence without parole is all that the State of California can do?"

"In Pelican Bay," Hobbs intoned, nodding.

Malcolm shuddered. "Q is bad enough, or Folsom." He shook his head. "But Pelican Bay? I know what goes on there, and I am surprised that the Justice Department hasn't sued California for what goes on there."

"They can't," Hobbs replied, "because the Federal government has learned from, and used, the techniques from Pelican Bay in various places around the world, both inside the United States, and in such places as Thailand, Diego Garcia, Guantanamo…"

"And all we want," Raydor sighed, "is an complete explanation of what your agent was doing in MS13 on the evening of December 11th, and all relevant background information relating thereto."

"Especially as it has been established beyond all doubt that several of the rounds that killed Detective Stromwahl," Sanchez was beginning to shake noticeably, trying to keep control, "were fired by your agent, into a Los Angeles Police Department police cruiser proceeding Code Three, when both Detective Stromwahl and Detective Romero were in full uniform."

Raydor gently touched Sanchez' shoulder; he took a deep breath. She continued, "There will be no direct trial for the murder of Detectives Stromwahl and Romero, and Ms. Camacho, which your agent participated in under circumstances that we believe were precipitated by your order." She took a deep breath. "But, if you do not cooperate, the events of the evening of December 11th will be germane at your trial, and without a satisfactory explanation from you, it will look like you recklessly aided and abetted the murders of three innocent people."

"And, as you know," Hobbs added, "it's a lot harder to be believed in open court than it is in a conference like this." She sighed. "In return for a complete, honest, and truthful explanation of what your agent was doing in MS13 that led him to be a party to homicide with special circumstances on the night of December 11th, now, the State of California is prepared to drop all charges against you."

"And my two agents?" Malcolm was not pleased at Hobbs' offer.

"The breaking into the Medical Examiner-Coroner's offices, that might be dealt with by prompt and generous payment for property damages and inconvenience caused," Raydor replied. "The battery on Dr. Kim, on the other hand, since that was not authorized under the operation in question, Dr. Morales is pressing charges on your agents for that, and in order to resolve that issue, you will have to take the matter up with him."

"You're his superior," Malcolm glared at Hobbs, "order him!"

Sanchez lifted himself from the table, shook his head. "How did you become the deputy director of anything, sir?" Raydor looked at Sanchez, hearing the sudden increase of volume, the sudden edge to his voice, but the word "sir" kept her from interrupting.

Sanchez continued, "Not even the Governor of the State of California can order a medical examiner to do anything, unless the medical examiner is violating the law, or failing to execute the enumerated duties required of the job." He walked to the door and looked at Raydor. "I think he wants to be buried in Pelican Bay. We're wasting our time."

Raydor shook her head. "I don't like to say this, but Detective Sanchez is correct, we are wasting our time here. She arose and walked to the door.

Hobbs nodded. "My offer expires in one minute."

Malcolm glared back. "No. Complete amnesty from all charges for my agents, or I say nothing."

Hobbs nodded. "Detective Sanchez, if you please…"

As Sanchez walked to the seated Malcolm, he quietly said, "Please stand, place your hands behind your back."

Malcolm shot up from his chair and swung at Sanchez' face, his right hand striking him in the jaw. Reflexively, Sanchez grabbed Malcolm's wrist and twisted hard as he leg-swept Malcolm to the floor, face first, twisting his right arm upward.

As Sanchez handcuffed Malcolm, Raydor shook her head. When Sanchez had lifted Malcolm erect, she looked into Malcolm's eyes, and intoned, "You are a fool, sir. When this video is played in court, it will ensure that you do die in Pelican Bay."

Chief Taylor walked in with two uniformed officers. "May we, DDA Hobbs?" She nodded, and the two uniformed officers escorted Malcolm out.

"All right, Captain, DDA Hobbs," Taylor was not happy, "where are we?"

"I think that Deputy Director Malcolm might wind up dying in Pelican Bay," Hobbs replied, "and his two agents will be spending ten years at Q or Folsom."

"And I think Special Agent Howard may be able to assist us in clearing up details of the DEA operation," Raydor added, "especially as it is a turf war between the two, and the FBI won't cover up for the DEA now."

"Perhaps we need to get back to Major Crimes," Sanchez concluded, "as we have three operations ongoing, to see what else we can do to clear up this case."

"Take a deep breath, Sanchez," Taylor replied, walking to face Sanchez. "I know you've had problems with control before, which is why I am very proud of your performance here."

"I'd rather have a dulcex-ex," Sanchez smiled.

"I need a triple," Hobbs replied.

"You and me both!" Taylor grinned, as he opened the door, and they all filed out.


End file.
